Forty-first minute, sixteenth hournThe milk you left out’s turned sweet and sournIt’s all over (all over me)nAnd it’s potent like the first time we believednThings got jumbled; ebony seemed ivorynYou see, I won’t be whistling your tunes anymorenBut they’ll be lapping round and round and round my headnnYou made the first movenI love that you made the first move butnnClose to being close is not enoughnTo keep me bright when my bones are rattled barenI can’t ask you to keep on, but ifnYou turn full circle you might see me standing therennIf somewhere there’s a place asidenWhere truth and dreams collidenMaybe they’ve run out of tickets for twonSometimes dreams seemed better company than you (sorry)nHalf complete in my cocoon (a bit too soon)nSo I’ll wait for dangerous daysnComfort’s not the path to safety in the endnnWe’re going placesnI love that you’re going places without me, causennClose to being close is not enoughnTo keep me bright when my bones are rattled barenI can’t ask you to keep on, but ifnYou turn full circle you might see me standing therennI’m pressing down fingers and fists all at oncenThe problem is I’m slamming down fingers and fists all at oncenAnd this is no piano; this is no pianonnYou made the first movenI love that you made the first move… butnnClose to being close is not enoughnTo keep me bright when my bones are rattled barenI can’t ask you to keep onnClose isn’t close enoughnTo keep me bright, to keep you brightnI don’t want you to go on, so ifnYou turn full circle you won’t see me standing there