歌词
Can't say that I regret much of anything
But if I regretted not breaking your heart
Well what kind of man would that have made me?
Well, to start, it would have made me yours
Well I guess this is the man I've become
Writing songs on a Sunday with no one
Parking lots and street lights
Your baby's not coming home tonight
Write you a letter, baby
Don't leave out any insults
'Cause I'll be on top
In my head we're doing fine
Yeah, in my mind, yeah, you're loving me all the time
Well I guess this is the man I've become
Writing songs on a Sunday with no one
Having you been my only regret
I suppose I can live with that
Write you a letter, darling
Don't leave out any insults
'Cause I'll be on top
In my head we're doing fine
Yeah, in my mind, yeah, you're loving me all the time
We're doing fine