Saturday, March 1, 2008

My Arms Get Tired

I'll blame my demanding yoga instructor. As I often find myself saying nowadays, I never thought I'd be in this position. Sing it, Todd.

Please don't look at me that way,
I can hardly say what I have to say,
There is nothing that I haven't told to you
That I didn't believe you knew.
I am thinking of another time
I could feel you thinking that you were mine,
Now I hold out my hands 'til my arms get tired
And you wait on the other side.

You and me, we're both the same,
Don't let me take all the blame.

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