Sunday New York Times - Matt Nathanson . Leaves and the rain falling outside. Taxi waited in the street. Gave you my keys, told you I'd try... But we both knew better, didn't we? I made my way to JFK in world record time, Hoping I would miss the flight. . You and I were fighting sleep. Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep, At least 'til we said goodbye. Sometimes you're still mine Between the lines of the Sunday New York Times. . You were the saint, I was the liar, At least that's how I remember it. Left all our dreams, all our desires On the steps of your apartment. The Brooklyn bridge, your olive skin Framed in black and white. I miss how simple love could be. . When you and I were fighting sleep. Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep, At least 'til we said goodbye. Sometimes you're still mine Between the lines o编辑于2010/05/07更新