When It’s Over

When it’s over…
And you get up to leave again…
Depressed impressions on the sheets
Where damp stains and champagne meet
There my memory of you’s fading even now
Alone with too much room in bed
Your words stirring up my head
And I don’t seem to remember anything good
When it’s over I’m hungover
You’re really just a phone-call-lover
I should really try to do something more
But I know when tomorrow comes
I’ll still ask if you wanna have some fun
These mistakes I make are really all I have
These mistakes I make are really all I have…
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