We don't speak anymore
It's not that deep
Or that shallow
Maybe we could meet
In the middle
Balancing on train tracks
As a matter of fact
I think we could've been
Holding each other's hair back
Hurricane head in basin
But you aren't ready to leave
I promise to text back
As long as you'd like that
It's death till us part
Through blue screens
We can part any sea
That surrounds us,
Or compounds us
Or threatens to cut any chord that connects us
We don't speak anymore
It's not that deep
Or that shallow
It's somewhere we'd just about stand in the middle
I mean having a DMC
I mean true reverie
I mean my head on your heartbeat
Your heart beating out of time
Old times abandoned
When we could scale any roof in South London