Snuck into the convention center before the gaming crowd descends and it's just me and a thousand half-built booths in this cavernous hall. The morning light through the glass roof is doing something to this hoodie I wasn't expecting. You'd come find me back here, wouldn't you.
The washing machine does this thing on the spin cycle and I'm the only one in here to notice it. You'd just stand at the window and watch, wouldn't you.
Got home from closing the cinema and the shower's still heating up. I sat down on the edge of the tub and my hands had other plans. Tell me you'd have stopped me.
Bass from the pavilion is still rolling across the water and I found a spot up here where nobody can see. It's doing things to me — you want to watch?
Found the quiet end of the harbor where nobody walks past. The warm concrete and the dark water did something to me I wasn't expecting. Would you sit down next to me or just watch?
AC gave up about an hour ago and the fire escape is the only spot that doesn't feel like an oven — didn't exactly plan on ending up like this out here. Would you climb up or just watch from below?
Locked up after the last screening but I didn't go home. Something about all those empty seats and the dark got into my head and my hands went somewhere else. Would you have sat in the row behind me?
Sat through two hours of swelling movie scores and all it did was make me ache — got home and couldn't keep my hands to myself. What would you have done in the seat next to mine?
Almost midnight and I stopped pretending I was going to sleep. The phone's propped on the pillow and I'm not thinking about tomorrow anymore. You can watch if you want.
Scooter died on me two blocks from the cinema, so now I'm sitting on the curb outside a 7-Eleven waiting for it to forgive me. At least the slurpee's doing its job.