when the time comes for me to call you
...thats the time when the arm falls off the clock
(because)its tired of counting
and im tired of waiting but (for you, and only you) i still do it anyway
...thats one thing you can say about me, i guess
more patience than the clock itself (what does that say?)
but my time is running low and so is my fever (im down below 100 now, shivering)
i pray that one day youll hear the song im listening to now
and the same visions
will run through your precious head (the precious head that nods so gently when i scream)
and i want to know-
if its not me youre thinking about, what is?
id like to think that when you tell me you hate me that youre joking
and sometimes it seems that way
but seriously-why would you ever say that to anyone...
...especially me...
the person you know you mean the entire world to
and i know these high hopes are all my fault
(or maybe i just dont want to blame anything on you...you\'re much too perfect for that)
but its hard to say that im just obsessing...
...cause you know, its almost 2 am and you still havent left
and youre still talking to me the way you did the first time that you held me (stop, please)
and youre still leaning forward the way you did when you told me to scratch your back (im begging you...i cant stop memories)
and you just sighed that long sigh...the same way you did when i told you ---
-forget it (i stopped myself because you wont cut me off)
...im sorry...and im stopping now
...i didnt mean to make this awkward, im just not thinking straight tonight