I'm never really satisfied
until i'm home early every night-
a sort of bold social suicide,
or a temporary place to hide.
There never was a plan tonight
until I showed up at your door.
Although I kind of knew all along
that I would end up on your living room floor,
hoping you don't mind.
There never is a gaurantee.
You might get really sick of me
right in the middle of our special night.
If you would leave, that would be all right.
I'm never really satisfied.
A slow kiss and a bottle of whine
doesn't make anything OK.
So i'm leaving anyway,
hoping you don't mind.