It’s been too long since we’ve spoken, I mean really spoken.
Too long since the words made any sense.
And I can’t go on like this, I don’t know about you.
I can’t go on without the aftertaste of your voice,
the lingering scent of muddled clarity.
I can’t continue without you,
or really even with you.

It’s been too long since I’ve held you, I mean really held you,
in my arms and in my heart.
You’ve been too long on this pedestal
and too short on my mind.
It’s not your fault; I’m messed up,
I know.
I’m sorry that it’s true.
It’s not your fault; I’m just fucked up,
I know.

And I’m sorry
for everything I did and didn’t do.
I couldn’t get it right the first time,
and try-try-again failed on me.
I have tripped over both your tongue and mine
and fell into the words never spoken in between.
Half-hearted vengeful tendencies
and alcoholic tendencies
and addictive personalities
just don’t mix as well
as the daiquiri I had last night.
I’m sorry.

It’s been far too long since we’ve spoken,
too long since the words made any sense.
And I still can’t go on like this, I don’t know about you.
Without the aftertaste of your voice,
the lingering scent of muddled clarity.
I can’t continue without you,
or really even with you,
so I’ll just linger in between
I guess.