Afterthought

Funny how,
it’s on a perfect day that I find myself missing you the most
And it’s not the lack of perfect women, of that there’re many
And it’s not the lack of perfect days, still counting by
It’s just, the lack of you that makes me wish that I could forget

Open the door, you fall into my arms and your skin is like my second skin that it hurts when its gone cause I let you go when the times were low hoping you'd get to see a better show. Making tea at the break of dawn cause we’ve slept so much, just none at all and your hand feel soft against my cheek when you raise my face up to yours and I, should have moved on by now but every step I take gets heavier somehow.
It’s just, the lack of you that makes me wish that I could forget

Cause
I’m falling for you
again