'Cup of Coffee' by Garbage
Apr. 9th, 2003 12:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jackofallgeeksYou tell me you don't love me over a cup of coffee, and I just have to look away. A million miles between us, planets crashing to dust. I just let it fade away.
I'm walking empty streets hoping we might meet. I see your car parked on the road, the light on at your window. I know for sure that you're home but I just have to pass on by.
So no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still this obsessed, I guess I always knew the score: This is how our story ends.
I smoke your brand of cigarettes and pray that you might give me a call. I lie around in bed all day just staring at the walls. Hanging round bars at night wishing I had never been born and give myself to anyone who wants to take me home.
So no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still feel like this, I guess I always knew the score: This is where our story ends.
You left behind some clothes, my belly summersaults when I pick them off the floor. My friends all say they're worried, I'm looking far too skinny, I've stopped returning all their calls.
And no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still so obsessed. I want to ask where I went wrong but don't say anything at all.
It took a cup of coffee to prove that you don't love me.
I'm walking empty streets hoping we might meet. I see your car parked on the road, the light on at your window. I know for sure that you're home but I just have to pass on by.
So no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still this obsessed, I guess I always knew the score: This is how our story ends.
I smoke your brand of cigarettes and pray that you might give me a call. I lie around in bed all day just staring at the walls. Hanging round bars at night wishing I had never been born and give myself to anyone who wants to take me home.
So no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still feel like this, I guess I always knew the score: This is where our story ends.
You left behind some clothes, my belly summersaults when I pick them off the floor. My friends all say they're worried, I'm looking far too skinny, I've stopped returning all their calls.
And no, of course, we can't be friends, not while I'm still so obsessed. I want to ask where I went wrong but don't say anything at all.
It took a cup of coffee to prove that you don't love me.
