i don't want to walk with you
or to pillow talk with you
i want just you

i don't want to die with you
or to get high with you
i want just you

i don't want to curl up with you
or to be love struck by you
i want just you

i don't want cute dates with you
or to wake next to you
i want just you

i don't want to get to know you
over dinner, then to owe you
i want just you

i don't want commitment
or to have to admit that
i want more than 'just you'

though it’s a shame love has hurt me before
it's getting much harder for me to ignore:
the fact that i don't really want 'just you'
it's all the little things that i don't want to want to

these days,
your eyes are sad and cold
and
there's a noticeable gruffness to your voice
these days

these days,
your clothes are always ripped
and
i seldom see you smile
these days

these days,
you're silent like a ghost
and
the faint smell of cigarettes sticks to you like glue
these days

these days,
i never see you without a bottle
and
i'm unsure why, but you always carry needles
these days

these days,
a man is always on your arm
and
then there's a new one the next day
these days

these days,
i don't know who you are
and
i wish you would come back
*always

by a crackling fire
with an untuned guitar
as the sun makes its way to its bed

just a few friends
and a bottle of drink
as we discuss all the signs we misread

the uncertain future
regrets of the past
we ask how the world keeps on spinning

from friends to lovers
and lovers to strangers
we're desperate for our new beginnings

so we stop all the talking
and find a way out
you pick up a guitar and you strum

we sing and clap
and knock our drinks back
as our minds begin coming undone