Torsdag.

Wednesday night, everything's fine, except you've got that look in your eye

when I'm tellin' a story and you find it boring,

you're thinking of something to say.

My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,

and I know that I should let go, but I can't.

And everytime we fight I know it's not right,

everytime that you're upset and I smile.

I know I should forget, but I can't.

You said I must eat so many lemons

'cause I am so bitter.

Over and out.