Every time I show you a glimpse of myself
I feel a little more dust come of my shelf
Every time I guess something new
I find myself liking you
That's true!
But every embrace soon comes to an end
Usually with, “we are just friends.”
Or they are not ready
To go steady (with me)
I don't know how much I take in one lifetime
Until I call someone all mine
I do not know that answer, I never will
I am so used to the cold chill
How can I be so right about something and yet so wrong?
How many times must a man move on?
