Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave And I had said that to Jack about you so I felt seen Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be Because we're crazy So tell me who else is gonna love you? Like me At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding
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Who's gonna hold you? Me Who's gonna know you? Me And you're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're two idiots Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Gonna know you?
You left your typewriter at my apartment Straight from the tortured poets department Who else decodes you?
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