Inventaire

A promise in the air
Two empty words
Three little boats
left on the ground
A bit of your lips
A lot of your mouth
Four hairs in the shower
You'd be better off alone
Your mistakes
My judgments
My curses
Your wandering

> And then? <

Then we dream of the past
Nothing's a secret,
everything's lost,
What do we look like
when it's time for the inventory?
What do we look like?
What do we look like?

Five minutes on the clock
We'll do better tomorrow
Six bad photos of incest or a saint

> Seven calls from your mom
One message an hour
You could pick up
Sick of the voicemail <
It's too much for nothing
Too much pain for a good
In the end
Love, how much do you love me?

Nothing's a secret,
everything's lost,
What do we look like
when it's time for the inventory?
What do we look like?
> What do we look like? <
What do we look like?
> What do we look like? <

Eight years loving you
It was a Thursday
Senior year B
Not a letter since
Nine, I can't remember well
I won't lie
I can't find anything new to say to you
What do you have left of me?
> Better to leave it at that <

But tell me
Do I matter to you?