I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
Thinking over the experiences and what I should convey,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
I muse each day on what to tell you I've seen coming in your chart,
Or the injuries and spiders that cause me to howl and bray,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
Weekly caught up into something new; some philosophy or work of art,
And for the swiftest of ephemeral moments--it seems that all will be okay,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
It's not from trying not to tell you; one can't miss the mark without the dart,
I just like to freeze up when I see you--and I love to hear about your day,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
New and fresh experiences that I thrive on, new takes on bitter-acrid-pungent-tart,
A black and white scenario where my perspective brings up gray,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
I must seem pathetic for only showing week-to-week my broken heart,
With a laughable libido I try to keep from making me a lousy lay,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart
Thinking over the experiences and what I should convey,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
I muse each day on what to tell you I've seen coming in your chart,
Or the injuries and spiders that cause me to howl and bray,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
Weekly caught up into something new; some philosophy or work of art,
And for the swiftest of ephemeral moments--it seems that all will be okay,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
It's not from trying not to tell you; one can't miss the mark without the dart,
I just like to freeze up when I see you--and I love to hear about your day,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
New and fresh experiences that I thrive on, new takes on bitter-acrid-pungent-tart,
A black and white scenario where my perspective brings up gray,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart,
I must seem pathetic for only showing week-to-week my broken heart,
With a laughable libido I try to keep from making me a lousy lay,
I've lived a hundred lifetimes in the time we spend apart,
But when, at last, I'm in your arms- I delete the files and press restart