Emma

Your cheek pressed to the pillow The curve of your hips beneath my hands I could fall asleep remembering When you said I was your man And like some stranger in a hallway Or an airplane in the sky I could stay up all night wondering If I ever cross your mind And I try to tell myself that I don't give a damn And I try to tell myself that I'm alright And Emma, oh it's true, but when it comes to you You know that I'm no good at telling lies At telling lies At telling lies Well it's a colder wind that's blowing And I can barely find the words Just a boy and all his anger At a New York City girl Some lovers leave you empty Some leave you low and mean Some lovers simply leave you But they're few and far between And I try to tell myself that I don't give a damn And I try to tell myself that I'm alright And Emma, oh it's true, but when it comes to you You know that I'm no good at telling lies At telling lies At telling lies