Room #3 in Apartment 2055.
It’s an eight second walk to the front door, six if you hurry.
And I do suggest that you hurry.
Flip on the porch light if you want, or don’t.
The fourth step down is loose on the left side, try not to fall.
Try not to cause a scene.
And, you know, try not to be seen.
Don’t let any of the roommates hear you,
don’t greet any of the neighbors.
Just don’t do anything to make yourself known.
Nobody needs to know.
What went on here, what we allowed to conspire…
all of that is going to disappear, and you have to let it go.
See, up here in Room #3, Apt. 2055,
I don’t do this sort of thing.
I’m a serial monogamist, the can’t-do-meaningless,
I’m a girl with a heart like flypaper.
So don’t take offense, don’t shoulder the blame,
but if you would, just hurry on your way. Forget about goodbye.
Because six seconds too many and you don’t leave my mind.
Six Seconds
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