One of us is crying, one of us is lying In her lonely bed Staring at the ceiling Waiting for a call Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small Wishing she had never left at all They passed me by, all of those great romances You were, I felt,

My father told me, lying on his bed of death, "boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self 'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor The

Staring at the ceiling One of us is crying, one of us is lying In her lonely bed Wishing she was somewhere else instead They passed me by, all of those great romances It's as if you're robbing me, of my rightful chances My picture clear, everything

If you're goin', then go Go spin circles for me Wound relentlessly Around the words we used to sling Oh, such torturous things Always chewing up the only ones I ever mean Lying there

Staring at the ceiling Wishing she was somewhere else instead One of us is lonely One of us is only Waiting for a call One of us had to go One of us is crying One of us is lying In her lonely bed

And even though I ball, I would trade it all To keep you in my arms, baby 'Cause, girl, your love is priceless One thing I can't afford to lose Flying in all the jets I flew, yeah But none of it don't matter, baby, no If you ain't waiting there when I

Whatever you got to raise up We'll be flying up in the clouds Like we're never gonna come back down Like we're running out of runway lights You can't get it high enough Your hands or your phone or your cup Set it off like the 4th Of July Gonna take it up

You gon' have to say my name for this 'Cause usually, I don't do no flying out I never been one to fuck up the vibe The other side of you is on the loose Ain't got much to say I shoulda copped the one way You might have to catch a plane for this But

I'll just keep on lying to you All I give are little clues Maybe one day I'll get through But there is nothing I can do To the end of this song, to the end of this song I only need to say its true Your poor little heart already knew But there is nothing

My father told me, lying on his bed of death, "boy," he says, "woman she's gonna make it, don't fool your self 'cause she's got something to make a man lay that money, uh, right in her hand And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor The