Glass - Ingrid Michaelson

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.