subconsciously I might have changed it all
but push comes to push comes to telephone call
  (another one I waited for,
     now I won't be that girl no more)
this is how seems that I mistook you for another
and the only thing that I would change, is not slugging your brother
-but only with my words
          and maybe you too, but so I'm sure you've heard

so here I come to grips, with my wits
that never did much good-unless nothing is what sticks
because when the bar is high
   pretty or witty, nothing's quite right
and looking back, to the past
   it all goes by so fast
and that sapphire top (put on in a fight, it never fit quite right)
  blinded you, showed a glimmer or a spark
a relationship at it's start
          and so you followed like a lark

and while we danced and swayed and shouted
all the things that Candy Land allowed us
   my judgements-your feelings
   began to get so clouded

and push comes to push and I think that you just played me
-at a surprising game of frisbee
(your favorite tree's a maple,
  junk food is your staple,
  blue's your favorite color
  and Maine's the place to be)
so like playing battleship in the night
we fumbled, and we stumbled, oh so awkwardly
but somehow it felt so right.
to fall asleep, be held so tight.
  and this Saturday, I don't know what I'm doing
       but hopefully something with you.

and push comes to push and I get dizzy
now there's dinner with your family
you held me oh so tight, I swear it felt so right
but you've been sobered up by Disney
   -and here I lost the fight
this is the start of the part where I became a cliche
         but you say that we can still be friends-anyway
         is this really what you want to do?
and I'm sure that its not you,
       which means it must be me,
and all I wanted was for you to see
that when push comes to push comes to telephone call,
it doesn't have to be the end of it all

and I know that lying doesn't fly
but neither does an inability to try
and yes I think you're so cold
   but only to a degree
   perhaps the same one to which you never liked me.
but avoiding you takes too much work
and it doesn't really help the hurt
so I just want to talk
-about fiction and fairy tales, tomorrow or today
but no I don't have a lot to say.

and push comes to push comes to screwing it all
and everything you gave me is in a box in the hall
but still there's a cd
the mix that I made you, then the mix I made for me
but I'm tired of the nonsense, so I ask to watch the end
and when I give it back again
you ask then if I'm done, and I realize that I've won.
because push came to push came pushing back
and what I said is now what you lack.
"thank you, yes, I'm done."