it’s easier to think of you
the way you constantly fell in love
making me just one in the line
of all your miserable loves

you always seemed to choose the
impossible ones

(it’s harder to think of how you told me
and the room filled with sleeping travelers
that this isn’t about wanting the unattainable
this is something unfeigned)

it’s easier to think of you
the way your silence reached over days
impossible to get to
constant involved deep in your pain

you always seemed to feel
the world did you wrong

(it’s harder to think of our long talks
safely protected by the night
mixed with tears of laughter
and well-hidden secrets from our past)

it’s easier to think of you
and how your stubborn ways made everything
so incredible hard

you always seemed to find comfort
in beating me to our end

(it’s harder to think of all that trouble you put yourself through
just to make me happy again)

it’s easier to think of
that anxious person
i’d become with you

i would be the perfect one
for you to leave behind

(it’s harder to think of the fact
that i still think of you
despite all that)