He’s like a train, he runs through me, same time everyday.
He’s like my brain, he predicts my actions, without my body’s permission.
Mysterious, he is.
Wish I didn’t love him as much as I did.
Never thought I was jealous, never thought I couldn’t cope.
I am a fiend, he is still my dope.
Maybe he’s over me, and it doesn’t bother me anymore.
Because as long as we talk I can pretend I’m as strong as him.
I can keep my secrets; that I don’t love anyone as much of him, or
Think anyone fits me like he does,
Keep the secret that I still think of *us*
Explain that sometimes I still feel like his girlfriend, even though I’m not.
Sometimes it’s lonely, and sometimes I still feel crazy in love…
Sometimes I wish I could change him.
Wish I could be his sidekick, wish my companionship was enough…
Long live my imagination, it’s crazy wild, with tricks and trips…
I don’t know if I love him as much as tell myself I do,
Or I just have a longing to be understood.
Either way, he is like a train, he runs on schedule, same time, everyday…