Sober

Waltz in like a cloud, can a person be heavy?

Do thoughts equal weight?

Do I touch the floor at all?

Spent an hour in a phone box, in the ink blotted street.

pretending it could work, kicking my feet.

Back in bed and sober, 

I'm out of ideas.

Why'd I try over and over,

To change the way you feel?

I've waited hours for this, lifetimes for this kiss.

Every conversation, is resolved by this,

too drunk too talk cohesively, I'm arguing with my knees.

When everything you ever had, just up and leaves.

Back in bed and sober,

I'm out of ideas.

Why'd I try over and over,

To change the way you feel?