(R. Matsuo)
After the intrigue, after our first impressions
Can there still be magic after we've made our final confessions?
When we wake in the morning after our sleepless night
Is love still alluring? How do we look when we turn on the light?
Chorus
There we are, almost in love again.
Both of us, lonely enough to pretend.
There's no deceptions, no notions of "love at last".
It comes down to habit, while defending the life we've had in the past.
To admit being lonely, isn't a moment of truth.
It's an honest affliction, conditions from living beyond our youth
Chorus
Just one cup of coffee, over some conversation
Some rhetorical questions, a chance to rehearse some new flirtations.
And maybe tomorrow, if no one new comes along,
Is it safe in assuming, this is where we'll both belong?
Chorus
