I sit alone, staring out at the rain as I start to cry I feel the world slip away And you are somewhere out there thinking that I'm not to blame But it's all a matter of interpretation. Now that it's cold outside, now that our clothes will never stay dry. Do you remember when I told you how much I liked your hair? Can you recall the first time I met you there? Bleeding nose and solid oak doors, coffee and superstar smiles. And I could drown in your eyes but I pull myself out, yeah, I've pulled myself out a thousand times But as I sit here, I realise something dear. We are my notebook, we tie together The songs I sing and the things I write in here, The feel of the pages as they flick under my finger. I guess you are the pen and I am the paper, words written all over me in both pen and pencil Scribbles over words when there was no eraser, stupid drawings in the corners of my mind. Words on my body that can never join like me and you plus together This is why you are the pen and I am the paper, you are the pen and I'm the paper. You write on me all the time. You asked me to turn on the radio, what did you think would happen when all the station just played Yellowcard and Taylor Swift? Caught me sneaking glances at you and you asked if something was wrong, I said no but I could tell that you didn't believe me so I guess you want me to elaborate, it's nothing, I just see a lot of you in these songs. You laugh as I fall down, but you've always helped me up. I'm breaking now, I can feel my heart fracture with every breath I take. I wish I could call you, but we're not like that. You're not my superhero to come and save the day. We are my notebook, we tie together The songs I sing and the things I write in here, The feel of the pages as they flick under my finger. I guess you are the pen and I am the paper, words written all over me in both pen and pencil Scribbles over words when there was no eraser, stupid drawings in the corners of my mind. Words on my body that can never join like me and you plus together This is why you are the pen and I am the paper, you are the pen and I'm the paper. You write on me all the time. And if I am the lyrics to your song, you must be the melody that they rest upon. If I am the melody that I'm singing to, you are the piano I cried at for you. You are the instruments I play for you. We are a notebook, we tie together You are the pen and I am the paper A useless metaphor for anyone's life, but put to you and I, it just feels right. We are my notebook, we tie together The songs I sing and the things I write in here, The feel of the pages as they flick under my finger. I guess you are the pen and I am the paper, words written all over me in both pen and pencil Scribbles over words when there was no eraser, stupid drawings in the corners of my mind. Words on my body that can never join like me and you plus together This is why you are the pen and I am the paper, you are the pen and I'm the paper. You write on me all the time. All the time.
