There's no talk of future plansnThere's no romancenThere's no good reason we should be in lovenSo I've been making shit upnWe're even sleeping in different bedsnDifferent schedulesnBut that's the best excuse you came up withnGood enough that it still sticksnnStill, I'm not tired of you holding outnTheres nothing better to come alongnI'm not tired of being let downnI'm tired of playing dumbnnThere's no talk of the way you've beennThough the evidence is creeping between nInto our happy homenI hardly notice anymorenMatchbooks from the other side of townnHis long aching looksnIt's in other people's yardsnBut that can't be what you wantnnI'm not tired of you coming home too latenBut when you don't come home at all I can handle being alonennI'm just tired of playing dumbnI'm tired of playing dumbnI'm tired of playing dumbnnThere's no talk of how I amnI'm not complainingnBut maybe a few kind words once in a while . . . .