After several months, I finally wrote a new song. These are the words. Uh, it has to do with things that happened in the past week, but I don't really want to say any more than that about it.
It's the way that you sit so you can reach everything from there.
All angles and eyelashes, too-big shoes and scruffy hair.
It's the things that you say.
It's how you got to be this way,
that we might all appreciate
the edge to every inside joke you make.
It's the way that you work, it's the things that you do.
Handle your own problems, but bring me a few
that I might solve them too.
And I'm sure the others wonder
what it is with me and you.
Well, let them wonder more; they've been wrong before.
Glitching live, heart skips, we both pretend to concentrate.
These days, who cares? What's maturity anyway?
I loved the way that you are,
and each miscue that got us this far.
And I'm glad you know me well,
but I wish you couldn't tell I tried this hard.