I'd love to sit and talk with you. To sit and laugh with you and tell stories with you. I'd love to hang out with you and go to parties with you and tell people our stories together. I'd love to have you over. I'd love to. I'd love. I'd love you. I'd love to go to parties with you and tell people our stories together. I'd love to sit with you and tell stories together. I'd love to sit and talk with you.
And I'd love to have beers with you and smoke pot together. I'd love to go camping with you. And road-trip together.
But even more
I'd love to. I'd love to have that response to anything from you. To whatever you'd like to do.
But you never do. You'd like to, but never love to. Not unless it was anything else.
I'd love, but you don't. You're comfortable, and make yourself at home.
But you're a nomad just like me, only you've found more home than me.
And I'd love, but you don't. You're comfortable and will make yourself at home.
And make a new home and never share it. And you'll find yourself alone.
You'd love to, 'cause you're a nomad just like me. And I'm comfortable, you can make yourself at home.
You always do. You love it, and it's comfortable, and it's home.
I'd love to, but you don't.
You never do.