The new one's done.
You wait until door meets door
And you're sure that he's gone
And then you sway and sing in the elevator
All the way down
Rushing down Sherman to MAB
Breathless on the crooked stairs
Reaching for the most familiar keys
Reverting to type again
Reverting to type again
Returning to what you were then
And every time you say
that this time you think you've really changed,
You always end up reverting to type again
He must have caught you sitting up straight
Instantly no longer bored
Trying slightly harder to concentrate
Failing at it slightly more
With no excuse to communicate
No use in being heard,
You're both still hoping,
Both still reloading,
Still hanging on every word
Reverting to type again
Returning to what you were then
And every time you say
that this time you think you've really changed,
You always end up reverting to type again
