Sometimes I find myself sitting back and reminiscing, especially when I have to watch other people kissing. And I remember when you started calling me your miss's, all the play fighting, all the flirtatious disses. I'd tell you sad stories about my childhood; I don't know why I trusted you but I knew that I could. We'd spend the whole weekend lying in our own dirt. I was just so happy in your boxers and your t-shirt. Drinking tea in bed, watching DVDs, when I discovered all your dirty, grotty magazines. You take me out shopping and all we'd buy are trainers, as if we ever needed anything to entertain us. The first time that you introduced me to your friends and you could tell I was nervous, so you held my hand. When I was feeling down, you made that face you do. There's no one in the world that could replace you. Dreams of when we had just started things, dreams of me and you. It seems that I can't shake those memories. I wonder if you have the same dreams, too. The littlest things that take me there, I know it sounds lame but it's so true. I know it's not right, but it seems unfair that the things remind me of you. Sometimes I wish we could just pretend, even if only for one weekend. So tell me, is this the end?
Take me away, directionless. It doesn't have to make any sense. Use what you have, I'll follow you. Use what you have, don't you worry now. Choose what to be. Take a side.What if I don't want to step out in the light? Give it to others; just let it go now. Give it to others; don't you worry now.
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