Well if we fall in love, believe me, I will write about it.

When it’s come to nothing and you begin to doubt it ever happened, I’ll mile it over, churn it out, bring the ocean to the drought, you’ll tell me it’s not healthy and you’ll hurt me when you try to help me. Then I will tell you I’m sorry when the time for sorry has long deceased, I will think of you when all the city longs for sleep, I’ll keep them up, screaming out the secrets I don’t want to keep, then I’ll call you up in tears knowing you don’t want to speak.