I can't let myself come be with you (all of the time).
I'd get cruel and I'd tire of our sweet loving.

I can't let myself have another drink (I can't swallow).
I'd stop answering, stop thinking, start wallowing n' we both know
where that'd go—real low.

What I can
is take you driving, sunrise-set chasing
falling or dawning, what I can.
Taking my pride in all I can.

I can't let all myself go cuz I wouldn't know (when to stop).
Thenceforth hard-pressed to top what we had, what we got.

I can't let sweet old you into my life (not just yet).
There'd be a price in my eyes, a cost for letting you get.
But yes, maybe, maybe I might, if it's right.