Darling I hate to see you,
So angry at the world,
If people want a piece of you,
Then they're missing something for themselves
Another night, another bar, you're on a path of self-destruction and dragging the world down with you. You're on your 5th tequila and your 4th partner, this time it's a man. That's always the hardest to watch, I was your first, you said I'd be your only.
I don't know why I always insist on coming with you, it only makes you angrier, and you're taking it out on yourself. But somehow I don't trust anyone to look after you, this way I know you're safe. Tom and Danny don't know you like I do, no one does, and no one ever will. Me and you, we've always been special, so intense that we're explosive, whether its love or hate, we don't exactly do things by half. That's why to the others they think you're doing this because you can, this is your blowout, your way of letting off steam, you're young, free, rich and famous. That automatically seems to give you access to a whole other world of sex, alcohol and liberty. No strings attached, no questions asked.
I see things differently though. Maybe I'm looking too hard, but I see the way your eyes are constantly darting around, never focusing on one person too long, not even the latest person to tickle your fancy, the next in a long line of nameless, faceless fancies. Some might think it's you scouting out the talent, figuring out who to work on next, after all, you have a whole club full of girls (and guys), queuing to let you into their knickers, why not see how many you can get in a night. Not me though, no, I see it as a sign that you're not happy, like prince Charming searching for Cinderella, no-one quite fits the slipper. You're not focused on what you're doing and that's because you don't want to be doing it. You've never been good at handling your emotions, anger and rejection, fear and loathing are all simmering just under your skin and you have no idea how to let them out.
Every time you get a new piece of candy, you push it that little bit further, go that little bit wilder, at first it was just a kiss, but those kisses soon turned to quick handies in the toilet and before you knew it you were there having sex in the sleazy stalls. But soon that wasn't enough you wanted more, you became more daring, as if you wanted to get caught, more depraved, almost as if you wanted to be refused. The others saw it as you letting your wild side out, but I know you, I know you better than you know yourself. You don't want any of this, none of this is satisfying you, and there's one glaringly obviously reason why, you want to be refused, you want to get caught, reprimanded, you need attention, you want to be tamed, it's a cry for help, a cry that gets ignored. You're surrounded by people, but you've never felt more alone.
You're offering yourself on a silver platter and the world is taking advantage of that. Each one of these girls and boys are taking a piece of you back with them, and soon there'll be nothing left of you. You're hollowing out, your eyes are growing dull and your lips are forgetting how to smile. The last time I heard you laugh, it sounded more like a wheeze, you're losing yourself. These people are taking away who you are, but they don't know who you are. They think you're your money, your fame and your talent and slowly that's who you're becoming, but you're so much more than that. They're missing out on the essence that makes you, well, you. If they saw even a glimmer of your true personality, then they'd never be satisfied with what you give them, because God knows I could never have enough of you.
In the hour or so between the innocuous flirting and the fumble in the toilets, they don't see how funny and whacky you are, how kind and caring, how intense and interesting you are. They don't see your bed-hair and confused face when you get woken up in the morning. They don't see your beaming smile, after you've worked so hard on getting that bass line just perfect and the guys clap and woop after you pull it off on stage, even though you were so nervous before hand you were almost sick in my car on the way to the gig. They've never felt what it's like to spend hours lying next to you, touching or apart, asleep or awake, just soaking in your presence.
I do, I know all those things too well and I also know just how much I've fucked everything up.
Maybe it's selfish of me,
To look at you and say,
Come back to me girl
I love, and I'll stay.
I know I have no right to you anymore, I know I threw all my leverage out the window when I turned you away, but do you know how many times I've replayed that night in my head, and how often I wished I'd done it differently. Yet despite everything, I know there's a part of you that still belongs to me, we had it all, we were perfect, we had a bond, we still have a bond. I can feel it, in the way you still look at me, the way our eyes meet before it all starts to fall apart, the way I still hear you calling my name in your sleep. You're hungry and desperate, I'm the only one who can feed you, scared and afraid, I can calm your fears.
Come back to me, I'm waiting here with open arms, they never closed. Things will be different this time, I promise.
Lyrics in italics from I Love Your Smile by Charlie Winston