Monica: Why did you never tell me? Why didn't you never write me back or-where were you?
Ian: Sitting in a room Feeling all the skew, I was all a-skewages
Monica: Sitting in a room Thinking about you Nothing ever changes
Both: Now at last you're here beside me Sitting in a room
Ian: Come out the bathroom Mon, come on!
Monica: Don't call me Mon! Here I go!
Ian: Hello
Monica: Hello All the lies we tell ourselves To lift us up, to make things better I wish I had a dime for every time I wanted to phone or make you a tape Or go to the corner to mail another letter But no reply You never answered me I just presumed you didn't love me anymore
Ian: I got your letter But I couldn't speak to you I couldn't get the truth to you the way that I intended to And while I was getting clean
Monica: Being in a room, seeing into you Instant reminiscing
Ian: Inside me I knew Sitting in my room Something was missing Am I the only one?
