In the kitchen, at the counter.
Who am I waiting for? Am I at the door?
In my bedroom, freezing on the floor.
I knock a few times, but he won't let me in.
In the future, I think I'm smiling, but he frowns and shakes his head "no."
In the future, I think I'm smiling, but I replicate his frown.
I'm having trouble singing a direct remark of love, to you.
Everything that's vaguely safe is somehow connected to you.
Every wisp of my love is somehow connected to you.
And every thought about what's vaguely safe -- would I be safe with you?
And when I remember that it's all futile... he let's me in.