Sunday New York Times - Matt Nathanson
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Leaves and the rain falling outside.
Taxi waited in the street.
Gave you my keys, told you I'd try...
But we both knew better, didn't we?
I made my way to JFK in world record time,
Hoping I would miss the flight.
.
You and I were fighting sleep.
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye.
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines of the Sunday New York Times.
.
You were the saint, I was the liar,
At least that's how I remember it.
Left all our dreams, all our desires
On the steps of your apartment.
The Brooklyn bridge, your olive skin
Framed in black and white.
I miss how simple love could be.
.
When you and I were fighting sleep.
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye.
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines o