Sometimes I took hits and I'd sit with you and watch the world slowly fall away from us,
But I mean when I say that that is where I'll die and it'd be more than alright.
You'd lie next to me and there's nothing more I'd rather do,
Than to feel your hand slide up my arm onto my neck.
You're still with me through the scent of your sweater and that's as close as I can get.
All I want to do is spend a holiday with you, maybe in Versailles.
Anyway, happy Valentine's Day, it wasn't as it used to be.
I spent the night with you over the phone and that's as close as I can get.
There's just one more thing I'd rather do than spend the night wrapped up in you:
It's to touch your face and spend the night somewhere in Versailles.
You know all we need to make it worth your time is an ounce, a pint, and a box of grapes.
That's my holiday . . .
Je vais tout avec vous, now I just want you around.
Pour je vous aime, tu est vraimente belle et tu est ma valentine pour Noel.
I don't know why that makes sense, but that's what I mean to say,
So you're my Christmas valentine and you're so gorgeous.
So much for falling out of love.
This is how it used to be. Nothing ever, ever changed,
Though I know you've thought that something inside me is going to give, but it already has for you.
I can't control my Novembers and anything afters,
But if losing myself is what it takes to lose myself in you again,
Then I don't know who I am . . . or maybe I never did. It was always you.
And nothing gold can stay, so you left at more than the wave of a hand,
And I'm doing - I swear - all that I can to bring back everything I had,
Before getting sick, fairy tales, and the clock of all these feelings,
Being broken by the hand of what someone might never have had.
And I'm sorry for being cynical and keeping you up when all that you wanted was sleep.
But I'm still awake and you're not here, even my November is gone,
With your sad, green eyes, wanting nothing more than to see me smiling and telling you, "It's fine."
Yeah - no one's under your bed but me.
My black eyes are so lonely without the window of your Spring-green eyes for me to stare into.
But I'm sorry, because this is still not enough for me to say that I miss you so much.
