You can see my lips are moving...
but it's something that you don't notice or just don't care at all.
Pour out my life as you sit there patiently.
Just when I think I've won you over you say something out of place,
and then I realise you weren't listening at all.

It's OK.  You can talk to me.
Just don't expect me to listen for free.

Strained crackling conversation...
tell me is it me or do I sense you've something better to do,
almost crying I've got no-one left to turn to
need a voice to listen to the thoughts all crowding round my head
that voice is you.  Just you.

It's OK.  You can talk to me.
It's just something friends do apparently.

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