I opened up a book the other day
and there was you and me
with all I wanted us to be
for me and all to see
and I stared at the page to remember
the sun and shadows on your face
but all there were were words to tell me
how I'd gotten to this place.
I have failed, I have failed,
I have missed my chance
I have lived my life in halves
because emptiness is tangible
only when you're lonely
and I don't want to leave alone tonight.
When you left, I felt better
because you were never here
and talking to myself gets rather boring.
You listen in with half an ear
as you scan the others in the room
and I halfway understand that you don't care.
Well, I stand half alone in a crowded room,
and you partly give me your attention
and I am grateful
for this is all I ask.
Then I see your arm half 'round her waist,
giving her your full attention
and I remember once you sort of looked at me that way.
But she left on the arm of another man
through no fault of your own
and you turn to me, a half smile on your lips.
I half turn my head to see your eyes,
and the expectant look that smoulders there
but I guess I'm not so empty after all.
You have failed, you have failed,
you have had your chance
and I can't wait around
and waste my life on halves.
And if emptiness is tangible
only when you're lonely,
then I'd like to see you leave alone tonight.