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District Line
by
James Smith (UK)
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Dreaming on the district line Talking about our future life Sleeping by the coast at night Jumping out of clear blue skies And you made our plans And I held your hand Years go by like paper planes Big ideas all go to waste Guess we had our golden days We try sometimes but it's not the same Anymore, my love Now we’re all grown up We're not friends 'Cause we still care more than a little And it don’t make sense Here wе stand, somewhere in thе middle One foot out and one foot in Wonder what we could've been If I moved out and you stayed here I'll be crying jealous tears When you tell me you Are seeing someone new We're not friends 'Cause we still care more than a little And it don't make sense Here we stand, somewhere in the middle You come over to see me We both know that it really doesn't help, whoa You leave your coat behind And jump on that long green line to head back west I'll meet you next time Somewhere in the middle, oh Not in my bed, it’s for the best Somewhere in the middle We’re not friends We still care more than a little, oh Don't make sense Here we stand, somewhere in the middle
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