<< The Heart Remains A Child >>
--- Everything But The Girl

I dreamed about you again last night.  You never have the same face
twice, but I always know it's you, and you're always looking better than
you really do.  Than you really do.  And I walk around the whole next day
feeling like I've still got something to say.  But I don't know what it
is, and I don't know how to reach you even if I did.  Even if I did.  Do
I wanna hear that you forgive me?  Do I wanna hear you're no good without
me?  Am I big enough to hear that you never even even think about me?
Why should you ever think about me?  And I thought that I'd outgrow this
kind of thing.  Tell me, aren't we supposed to mature or something?  I
haven't found that yet, is this as grown-up as we ever get?  Maybe this
is as good as it gets.  And years may go by, but I think the heart
remains a child.  The mind may grow wise, but the heart just sulks and it
whines and remains a child.  I think the heart remains a child.   Why
don't you love me?  Why don't you love me?  Why don't you love me?