i don’t want just another
i want someone special
someone to pick out my splinters
someone to smooth out my rough edges

i know it was in the past
but since you left,
i can feel a draft
and it follows me from room to room

you’re no good for me
i don’t like you anymore
no one lives upstairs
i’m on the ground floor

what are you talking for
i have been here,
at least once before
occasionally i get that message

because all this time people have lived
and lived without believing
suddenly, when it starts to rain
the churches are heaving
and then they start needing

we used to talk,
but then we drifted
we used to flirt,
but you never believed i was gifted

but i still carried on
i used to talk to anyone
i got through a lot of people
and it felt like everyone