Call you, say 9-1-1,
All I did was fuck love up again,
Say babe, remember us?
Say we know how this ends.
You probably got a place in Shoreditch,
Probably haven’t unpacked your bedroom.
And it’s probably cold as all hell in London
even in the middle of June.
I’m gonna sleep in your navy bedsheets.
Your roommate’s gonna hear me leave
in the morning when the novelty has
worn off from having me.
Take my lace and my leather off
and the novelty is gone.
I’ll be kind, it’ll just feel wrong.
Look—the novelty is gone.
Drunk in some ruined bar
four stops from Belsize Park,
Your teeth gleam in the dark
when I ask, how’s your heart?
You’ve probably got another lover.
She’s from anywhere but here.
And it’s probably almost over, and you’ll come back
to me by the end of the year and
I’m gonna sleep in your navy bedsheets.
Your roommate’s gonna hear me leave
in the morning when the novelty has
worn off from having me.
Take my lace and my leather off
and the novelty is gone.
I’ll be kind, it’ll just feel wrong.
Look—the novelty is gone.
Hang the mask up on the wall
and the novelty is gone.
I’m always what you want
‘til the novelty is gone.