It was our third date, and we were in the park.
It was a Tuesday in the middle of March.
I said the wrong thing, I knew it in my heart,
I guess.
I read your fortune, I saw the mother wound,
You lit a cigarette, then we were in my room.
You took my clothes off, I was in debt to you
again.
I should have known that was
no way to start a conversation.
Loving you lowered my expectations.
Loving you lowered my expectations.
I should have shown you
I’m no saint before it got complicated.
Loving me went from a high worth chasing
to something lower than your expectations.
You had a bad night, and your patience was gone.
You’d been the “good guy” for a little too long.
I read your cards right, but I wish I’d been wrong
for once.
It was our third month, you were renting a room.
It was our first fight in the middle of June.
I tried to reach you, there was no getting through
for us.
I should have known that was
no way to start a conversation.
Loving you lowered my expectations.
Loving you lowered my expectations.
I should have shown you
I’m no saint before it got complicated.
Loving me went from a high worth chasing—
Loving me went from a rule worth breaking—
Loving me went from a life worth saving
to something lower than your expectations.