You were mine, and I loved you
But that love is getting blurry, and you’re slipping out of view

Tell me, where’ve you been sneaking off to late at night since last June?
You’ve been distant, why are you distant?

And then I lose you, and then I have to,
Start over with some small talk, a fake smile at the bar
Say, ”Nice to meet you,” and, ”Can I call you?”

What will replace all that space left in my mind?
It’s like the furniture is gone, but there’s an imprint left behind
Say, ”Where you from? What do you do?”
Ask all the same questions to somebody new

What will replace all that space left in my mind?
From our deepest conversations flying through the coastal pines?
Like, ”Where you from? What do you do?”
Don’t make me ask the same questions to somebody new

Don’t want to ask the same questions to somebody new