Isn't this supposed to get easier?
Doesn't this pit go away with time?
Don't know that it'll get any easier
To live in a world where I can't make you
Mine
I cry
Injured on the inside
Be my guy
Wish we never met, that'd be much easier
Our calls went all night when I'd drink too much wine
Don't know that it'll get any easier
Still trying find new ways I could make you
Mine
I cry (I cry)
Injured on the inside
Be my guy
(I can't make you mine
Can we start again?)
I think of ways to start again
Maybe New York or London
Forced separations mean new meeting places
Look for new streets to ease the blues
But all these maps lead back to you
So I run in circles just trying to feel
Fine
I cry
Injured on the inside
Can't you just try?
I cry
Sick without you in my life
Be my guy (won't you?)
Isn't this supposed to get easier?
