you reach out your hands,
but did you mean for me take them?
you did not think past friendship.
or perhaps, it was something else you didn’t think past.

will we be dancing,
this year,
or the next, or the next?
or perhaps you’ll slip through my fingers.

i could be someone else’s baby,
and you’d never know.

would you still sing,
displaying your angelic voice
amongst a cacophony,
when i feel like only i hear it?

will we be slow,
or will something push you towards me
-if we dance, sweetheart, then you’ll never have to worry,
if i am yours i’ll never be anyone else’s baby.

but if i was hers, when i used to be hers,
i wonder if i ever stopped loving you.
but if i was hers, another one’s,
would i stop loving you?

what if this is our last chance,
and we’ll never do this?
this fragile friendship, build-up,
could mean nothing at all to you.

would i ever have a chance with you, if i was someone else’s baby?