Thinking about the times

we spent chatting in the pub,

thinking I might have talked

just a bit too much,

and I'm thinking about

how I blew a chance forever.

 

Thinking about the time

you could have spent in my heart,

but we never got together

or made a real start,

thinking about the you

I never got to know better, and

 

even though we could

have drifted serenely

round and round

going up and down

this old town,

getting more curious

about each other's

sights and sounds,

we’d already worked the ending out,

yes, we’d already worked the ending out.

 

I could have told you about

my outlandish schemes,

and you could have told me about

your more elegant dreams,

but you took them home,

waiting for someone else to discover.