It just slips out, how fucking cool -
how I see you - I see the bad, but
all that good is so much more
remarkable. And so I do!
I always have.
And it's all true,
but not too cool, huh?
Not too fair. Not too good.
As if I could -
As if I care,
As if I had
a thing to give.
I ought to shut my stupid lid, when
I can't have you anyway, and I
can't have you anyway. I couldn't
have you any way that I can see
my way clear to. And I can't
have you anyway, and I can't have
you anyway - and if I could, it's
just like me and just my luck,
and just like you - I couldn't
have you anyway. I'm pretty sure
I'm pretty sure I really need
to stop asking about these things
that have no place in space or time,
and nothing now to do with us,
or do for us - a waste of trust
a waste of patience, tried and tried
to waste imagination on
what we can't make-believe of life
and probably only one of us
would even want to make of it.
As if you wished - as if I knew,
As if I had a thing to give. When
I can't have you anyway,
et cetera, set, repeat refrain
and I can't have you anyway.
I can't fit us in any frame, I couldn't
have you anyway. And anyway, you wouldn't
want - at least, I think - that's
probably. I shouldn't speak,
You're really something else, though huh?
Though maybe I do make too much,
it doesn't feel I've oversold.
To me, I cut back quite a lot
of all the things that come to mind.
The kind I'll say: You've said enough
already, now! It's obvious, and nothing
to be done about. And maybe you could shut
As if I can,
as if I could,
As if we ever had a doubt.
As if I had a thing to give
As if this was one life to life,
I can't have you anyway, that's
probably. I'm pretty sure.
And I can't have you anyway.
I shouldn't want you anymore,
I couldn't have you anyway.
I couldn't want you any more.
And I can't have you anyway. That's
probably, I'm pretty sure