Sometimes I think about the girls I've kissed
And those I've missed
Missed opportunities for being drunk
And gone back home alone, wasting spunk
I guess it's only numbers
And at the end of the day nothing matters
But sometimes I think about it all
The days of the charismatic fool
I sometimes hope for it all to stop
Waiting for the night bus at a random bus stop
As it weaves around the empty streets
It always ends between the sheets
Sometimes I think I'd swap every memory
Just to have you beside me
Because when push comes to shove
There's only one I've ever loved.