the stairwell's empty except for you and me.
you say it's starting to get late.
a whisper, an echo. you probably should go.
so why are we so content to wait?

when you take a step can i take it back?
can we turn around and not look back?

a smile and a good-bye; how hard can it be?
but everything i ever wanted is staring at me.
so once again it's the point when
we still pretend that we're just friends,
and i guess this is when you leave.

can you say goodnight and walk out that door?
how can that be right when we both want more?

all the things we left unsaid are loud and clear.
and i'm still watching as you disappear.