Lonely nights, she waited but made sure she looked good
In case his plans could include a quick hello, or a nice drive
She sat in her doubt, slept with her loneliness, got drunk
on the idea of his presence and just how wonderful his eyes sparkled
when he swore he would rather lay with her confusion
than step foot in that life one more time, but he has to
Just once more. Just once. He has potential for permanence which he is blind to. Everything is a drug. Or at least has the opportunity
to get you high with the thought of exclusion, you and him. Him and I.