You saw my interest peak right when the spark ignited,
and then it sort of died out but I think you are my incentive to touching
pen to paper to wait for the effects to set in.
Oh, what made you think that I was so cynical that every time you speak,
my eyes roll back in my skull and I wait for the noise, you to stop?
Cause I'm not, and I never meant to hang you up like that.
You know how we never see the beauty in sunrises
unless we haven't yet gone to bed?
Well I'd just woke up, and I can't ever sleep without headphones in.
So when we spoke, I could see your lips move but couldn't hear them.
Cause I'm thinking that the walls seem constant,
but if you push them, they'll so easily move.
Maybe sometime this week, we could sit down to get coffee
or to talk, so you can get out of my head.
Or we could blow up balloons until we run out of breath,
blind each other and ruin the exposures.
You'll find yourself in almost every notebook that I've owned
for the past year or two.
I'm thinking that the walls seem stable but if you push them,
they'll easily move.
And I think it has to do with breathing patterns,
and always needing something to follow.
Cause I can rarely ever sleep without some beat keeping
my pulse slow.
They're always blocking the doorways, making the room small,
and by the way, I think I fell back in love with you right after you'd finally gone.