Half a Metre

You’ve dragged it through the mud, you useless crying thing
You’ve done what you’ve done, you dark and broken dream
And if it’s two, then three, then one, why am I still listening?
I know and I know, I’m sorry, I know
I know, I know that lately I’ve not seemed so strong
I promise there is nothing wrong…
I’ve stood on seats of cars, a bastard burning dream
Wishing our eyes lined up, but I can’t see a thing
And if it’s him then home then sleep, how are you still happy?
«What if Melbourne was a mirror?»
«Don't you hold it up to me»
«Don't you think that you would see her?»
«Don't you hold it up to me!»