Too many times I walk in,
ready to sweep you off your feet
in the middle of the coffee shop
as if our lives were like the movies.
But then I see the back of your head
and it’s my knees that go weak.
I see those piercing eyes,
can’t meet those grey-blue seas.
So when I sit down I stay silent,
I can hardly breathe,
the last thing I need is for you to think
that I’m not interested in you and me,
that I’m not interested in you being interested
in whether or not I’m interested in being more
than just two hearts rolling around on the floor,
but I never say just what I want to
before you have to leave.
different faces 