It's a quarter past four,
|
I packed my bags with less things than we hold in conversation,
|
If that's even possible.
|
I wish it weren't true,
|
The fact that I could write this song,
|
And you can't speak a word... Whoa, it's why...
|
|
You're not my baby,
|
Oh baby, and maybe, I'm crazy, yeah.
|
I don't want to have to write, oh baby,
|
Don't want to have to write to you,
|
But you made me, you made me,
|
Because you never changed.
|
|
I think I'll move somewhere inviting,
|
Where my heart's not being lied to,
|
Cause I'll keep on trying.
|
But you can't change anymore,
|
So put that smile behind your lack of effort,
|
It's the only thing that shows anyway.
|
And it's why...
|
|
You're not my baby,
|
Oh baby, and maybe, I'm crazy, yeah.
|
I don't want to have to write, oh baby,
|
Don't want to have to write to you,
|
But you made me, you made me,
|
Because you never changed.
|
|
Don't want to have to write, oh baby,
|
Don't want to have to write to you,
|
But you made me, you made me,
|
You'll never change.
|
|
-----------------
|
You Won't Hear This
|
| Envy On The Coast |
