Felt too much, did she feel a thing?. Long, dark hair, never saw her cry. In two halves I was torn. My maybe love who wouldn't even try. . She loves me, she loves me not.
Sick of trying to find a way inside. Sick and tired of all the after. Sick of trying to find a way to slide. Even though it always ends in laughter. .
Pay attention my love 'cause it's over. At the tip of my tongue is the price you weren't willing to pay. Still this is something akin to a breakdown. And your impression of a woman supposed to be easy to see.