And the sea is calling to her: "Come alone"
As she dials a number with
Her fingers on her phone
And her keys are falling from her coat
As I weave my fingers
Round her perfumed throat

No I can't give her what she wants
I can't give her what she really needs

I can't give her what she wants
It'd push her away

So I turn my attention to the
Bruise that's on her fist
Feel the pulse beneath her
Almost perfect wrist
And the flames are crawling round
The note she wrote
Flickering like fingers round the
Lining of her coat

No I can't give her what she wants
I cant give her what she really needs

I can't give her what she wants
It'd push her away

And I see her silhouette on every street
Hear the clatter of her pretty, pretty feet
And all that's left is ashes
Of her sorry little note
So nobody can ever read
The sentences she wrote

No I can't give her what she wants
I can't give her what she really needs

And I can't give her what she wants
It'd push her away away
Away away

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Brett Anderson, Richard Oakes