“Am I big enough to hear that you never even think about me? Why should you ever think about me?”
I dreamed about you again last night
You never have the same face twice
but I always know it’s you and
and you’re always looking better than you really do
and you really do.
I walk around the whole next day
feeling like I still have something to say
but I don’t know what it is
and I don’t know how to reach you even if I did, even if I did.
Do I wanna hear that you forgive me?
Do I wanna hear you’re no good without me?
and am I big enough to hear that you never even think about me.
why should you ever think about me?
And I thought that I’d outgrow this kind of thing.
Tell me, aren’t we supposed to mature or something.
But I haven’t found that yet.
Is this as grown up as we’ll ever get?
Maybe this is as good as it gets.
And years may go by.
But I think the heart remains a child.
The mind may grow wise, but the heart just sulks, and it whines,
and remains a child, I think the heart remains a child.
Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you love me?