I've grown quite weary of writing these stupid two-bit love songs as sure
As you've grown weary of hearing them spew from the gaping cut in my face.
But here's one more from the factory inside my heart that also manufactures
Hate and cynicism but has a soft-spot for you.

I feel like I'm Jay Gatsby without the charm, mystique, or charisma
And that instead of an inlet, my green light is across the sound and thensome.
I've been trying to hard lately to find my footing--you've got to believe me--
But the only way I can stand is if you're there to hold me up with your smile.

And I'm sorry for this and everything
That I've done and what I'll fuck up later;
For this song and for all the other ones.
I just hope you can forgive.

But if you're waiting on roses then
Sweetheart, I've got your bouquet right here.
I've been trying to thaw it out since you
Left them out in the snow.

You once told me to stop thinking and sing so I will sing to you
That life without you is like The Wall on shuffle; you know, it just don't make sense
Yet here I am living it in the headlights of a car that will take me
Farther away from hope and promise and from 2009.

My darling, my sweetheart, my one and my only:
I can't live without you; you're in me, you own me.
I'm spiraling down into the deep and dark sea
Hoping oh so bleakly that somehow you'll hear me.