Glass

Rolled around on kitchen floors Tied my tongue in pretty bows with yours And now we pass and just like glass I see through you, you see through me like I'm not there You could make my head swerve Used to know my every curve And now we meet on a street, And I am blind, I can not find the heart I gave to you Sometimes what we think we really want we don't Sometimes what we think we want we really don't Sometimes what we think we love we don't And I am blind. I can not find the heart I gave to you And when we meet on a street, Then I am blind, I can not find the heart I gave to you --- Glass - Ingrid Michaelson