?

It’s such a shame, isn’t it?
That there’s nothing to be done
That we don’t actually fit in anywhere
And that nothing is just right for us

I’m aware it’s disappointing
That you and I are so far we can’t reach
Yet we spend endless nights wondering
What ever happened to the joy we never had

This never-experienced contentment of our part, dear
Is a mere inconvenience this lifestyle displays
I’ve been told (by myself), pumpkin pie,
That you can either be happy or be interesting

Have I told you I’m sorry?
For nothing, really, but it always feels
I’m missing something and that fits
I didn’t mean to fill the silence, it sometimes happens…

I can’t say I’m comfortable with this shallow smile
You sometimes put on my face, for I know it lies
It shouldn’t really be a smile at all, it comes out wrong
Yet, sometimes, we all must fake it

You know me by now, and I surely do
I’ve sat in the dark too often, and I could see you
I’m not romantic anymore, man, I’m horny
And we’re still making love when you can’t see me

I’ve tried to turn on the lights, but the sight is just awful
I don’t know who you are, who I’m writing to
What I mean and who I’m supposed to be
But I’m here, darling

Precisely where I can’t be found
Between this keyboard and
A bed that could easily shelter another
- although, as time has proven, it won’t

I’m in the exact place where we can’t ever meet
Because neither of us would step out of our own little worlds
And in much too comfort by the idea that
We will never. ever. be.

Breathing is tiring and
Life is never kind, we know
What are we waiting for?
I'm waiting for you