Stout & Martinis

This is not the way it was supposed to be

Me sipping stout, you and your martinis,

Tossing cruelties, like we were nothing.

Remember the way that we used to play

We never needed subtle games.

Now here we are, so very far away.

Tell me, were there ever days, days when love meant something?

There, there I go again, tripping endlessly over heart and head.

So inconsistent with my emotions.

So I stick to stout, while you sip your gin,

And we pretend nothing ever happened.

All the while, I'll be wondering, what you're thinking.

And if were, there ever days, days when, love meant something.