Stomach churning, I look again,
Through all the stupid people in way,
No sign of her hair or band or coat,
She's going to come though anyway.
Sitting, sipping this damn stupid drink,
Straw's too small and I'm sure the milk's sour,
Lovely looking hat that man has,
Let's check the hour again.
It's OK, she's out somewhere with a friend,
I'll just wait again to know it's alright,
It's my fault right? It all seems so small,
I want to make it right with her.
I want hold her tight and smell her hair,
And trace my nose across her lips ...