In the land of bad ideas
Two blocks away from a real bad year
In the land of hands and lips
You were all over my fingertips
A smell I can’t forget
Soap and water and clean sweat
But I don’t want you to call
And you haven’t called me yet

Funny fate keeps me
Walking down your road
My glance askance as if
I don’t know
I’m either in your arms
Or I’m at arms with you
We’re either not in touch
Or you’re touching me till two

I wanted to see if we could be
Friends without touching
But two blocks past one bad year
We were kissing and hugging
Oh I could be glad about it
If I did not have doubts about it
Like: you don’t love me
It’s what you said
Well: I don’t love you
I never did
No, never

In the land of good intent
We could be some kind of friends
I was game to try
But we hit a dead end

In the land of good intent
We could be some kind of friends
But two blocks past my street
We hit a real dead end