And you shoes are scuffing on the concrete
Your eyes are shy and your face is red.
I stood you up, you say. I nod.
I was sick, you say. I nod.
I tell you, it's okay.
But it's not okay.
You should have called.

And you're at my door again.
Three AM again.
I hope you don't mind, you say.
Your lips are so soft
It's been so long.
Were you sleeping, you say.
I tell you, it's okay.
But it's not okay.
You shouldn't have come.

And she's in my bed again.
Legs all tangled up again.
She smells likes skin and sweat again.
Was it good for you too? I nod.
Is this okay? She asks.
Sure. It's okay.
But it's not okay.
I still love you.

And my socks are sliding on hardwood floors
The dog's barking and you're upset.
I'm on my second glass of wine.
You're drinking from the bottle
You wanted white wine.
I knew you'd want white wine.
I don't know why I bought a cabernet.
You've never liked red wine.
I'm sorry. I wish you weren't upset.
Is the vintage okay, I ask.
You nod. It's okay.
But it's not okay.
I never should have bought red wine.

And we're with your friends again.
And they're all toking up again
You're telling a story again
Which means you're probably lying
I never liked your friends
Or your apartment with the dirty couch
You're high and you're asking if this is okay.
Yeah. I smile. It's okay.
But it's not okay.
I swore I'd never come back.

And my feet are sticking to the tile again.
And you're naked in my shower again
You're scrubbing sex from your body again
And I feel dirty below the skin
Like your dirty couch you can't get clean
And I wonder if she's coming over tonight
And I hope you don't leave your lighter this time
She doesn't know I smoke.
I say, we probably shouldn't do this again.
I say, you're probably going to hurt me again.
I say, let's not see each other again.
I say, is that okay?
No, you say, it's not okay.
It should never have come to this.
No, you say, that's not okay.
But it is okay.
You never did love me.