Warm breath on a winter window
He writes her name, on the glass, it's Tuesday morning
In a quiet little street, in a home kept tidy and neat
Is a messy room where two tangled bodies wake from sleep
He puts his hand on her face, and gently begins to trace
The outline of her lips, she whispers good morning
There's a need for spoken word but he thinks, in silence their actions are heard
Share a pillow, stare so close the focus blurs
Not an on the spot romantic, He found it hard to touch
Couldn't measure a feeling but when asked he said, I love you very much
In an attempt to keep her happy, he held so much away
Though he promised himself he'd tell her all of it someday
Morning light pours in through a north-facing window
The silence is broken, she pushes play on the stereo
And as music fills the room it fills the gaps
Yet another distraction, from talking bout mishaps and things
As distance grows, confusion of what to do
He retreats into himself, thinks that there he'll find a clue
Whilst neither one speaks up, and they both hurt inside
She doesn't do much to help but he's the one that's fucked it up this time
Not an on the spot romantic, He found it hard to touch
Couldn't measure a feeling but when asked he said I love you very much
He told her his accounts of heartache, and how it made him feel
Happiness in honesty, something real
In a desperate search both night and day
It only gets harder to find the words to say
He knows in his heart, he could love her til the end
If only from the start, he had been more open
The image of himself in the reflection
Says the clocks ticking down, if you want her, it's got to happen
He looks into himself, he stares into his heart
He takes his wants and needs, he splits the two apart
I'll run back
I'll hold you in my arms
You won't leave feeling empty next time
I'll tell you everything
And that I want to go home
And we'll walk home together next time