Don Johnson Big Band Private Intentions

I was born in June, she was born in October
Eight months between us, I never even told her
What it meant to me was more than just a number
It was fate in the shape of numerology and thunder
But thunder has a tendency to go as quickly as it came
So she went and kicked me out her game
Wasn't hard to comprehend, but harder to accept
Like when I saw her with the next man and started
To expect more pain in the form of regret
And not getting what I thought I had
I never thought of letting her slip
Now I stick to an image on my retina
Trip myself over and over, see her stepping up
To better and brighter things, out of my shadow
I guess in the light of things, this was a battle
I had already lost before it began
I try to figure out the cost and hold up a hand

See the people go hide in the trenches
See the people sleep on the park benches... (x3)
Who could stop the few from robbing you
I'm through talking to you with better intentions

And then she told me 'bout a dream she had
The same night after we met
But not that I would have to forget
The way I slept on her couch, crouched up against her
A few blocks from home, all these events were a prelude
A game of ping-pong in the kitchen
I was scared she would notice
How my eyes began twitching
When we lifted our shirts, my stomach on hers
Discovered how a dream can make
The world around disperse
Was it fact or fiction, or something in between?
A fraction of our friction, my attraction to this queen
Seemed to grow as hers faded, the blow
That I anticipated made it hard to try debate it
When you know you have to go
No songs, letters or poems will bring the past back
When it's buried in your bones
But I know, I'd give up everything I own
For just three words: Take me home


This is gonna be the last time I leave
The words haunt me when I pass by her window
Or see her walking softly 'round the corner
Did she really want me? Or was it just an easy way
To make it through the winter in a warmer bed?
I thought we struck a chord from the first moment
From the flea market to playing chess until the morning
Filling up her ash tray, wrapped in conversation
Curled up in a blanket all relaxed, and I was patient
In my actions and words, trying to play it safe
Don't attach yourself, or thirst for her
The bubble will burst, the burden of trouble is worse
To her than anything she knows
Held her wrist in my palm, insisted I'm calm
And that's the hardest part, she still lives around the block
But her heart is far, and every minute
Is 60 seconds past the limit, I just take
Comfort in the fact she was my mistake

See the people go hide in the trenches
See the people sleep on the park benches... (x3)
You could start anew or find a clue
If you knew what to do with your better intentions

(Words and music: Don Johnson Big Band)