Wind blows hair across my eyes.
Trust me. I'm trying to smile, and I'm trying my absolute best.
Gazes are still locked.
[it doesn't matter, we've lost the key anyway]
dolly dolly dolly,
the best isn't ever good enough.
The cliche love of walking on the beach has turned into a real mind hater.
I swear, I could look out over the water and see my heart sinking.
[The moon might illuminate the drowning scene.]
Despite the sun going down.
Concentration of cold hearts.
You shift your feet and mutter "You meant something to me."
Three years turns to three minutes in the drop of a smile.
Cross your fingers that I can keep my tears in check.
Because you mean something to me.
The thunder gives you an excuse to say "We better get going."
drive spent staring straight ahead. I think that words are useless at this point.
"Drop me off here."
"Here? At this hotel? Are you sure?"
Slow to a stop, watch me slam the door, and run through the rain without looking back.
Trash blows across the streets. Desert me. Again.
I need the impersonal effects of a hotel room.
The white walls with peeling paint, functional bed, cheap sheets.
Cover my face with my hands, throw myself against the wall.
Watch the way my make-up stains my new dress meant to impress you
only to be found out you couldn't care less.
A Nervous Breakdown In A Fashionable Hotel.