Baby, can you believe
After everything has been done and said
In fifteen minutes we’ll be sleeping in our own bed?
Count every second of the weekend
And we won’t last a day
Paint watercolours by the window
And you won’t feel ashamed
For a future built on a sloping past
A desperate question you oughtn’t ask
I know that it’s hopeless, I know that it’s ruined
I know that my job now is to see you through it
But how?
Say that you wouldn’t like the football
But I think that you would
I could never make you happy
Like a Dyson Airblade could
From our restless legs we’ll never sleep
A plastic mould of my tiny teeth
You’re tired and shaking
Don’t think you can do it
I know that my job now is to see you through it
But how?
And what point do I hold my hands up
Is it now?
And say in all the time you pestered and harangued
I never even began to draft an answer
In the over-literal song that you won’t send
In the patronising touch of a bad boyfriend
And we know wherever we wake up
The sun or the moon will be waiting for us
Both if we’re lucky
Like skimming stones
Not floating but bouncing
Hoping against hope
The lights on the Megabus are headache-inducing
You are turned away
You are contemplating
The damage I’ve done
The damage you’ve done too
'sorry' is a word we are working up to
Baby, can you believe
After everything has been done and said
In fifteen minutes we’ll be sleeping in our own bed?