I’m better with you, you’re better with me. I still miss all our nights, even fights are all better with you, you’re better with me. There is nobody else that could love me the way that you do, better than you. I still miss all our days and the way you would carry me through, I’ll carry you too.
There is nobody else who could love you the way that I do.
When I’m older, I want to have a nice kitchen with mahogany work surfaces, and I’ll have a stone backing to the cooker. I’ll be able to give you a kiss on the forehead when I turn round from the hobs, you’ll inevitably be in the way when I’m making us dinner.
I can’t wait to be there when you get home from work and I’ve had the day off. I’ll be in our kitchen making you a roast dinner or something, and you’ll be sat at the table playing on your phone whilst wearing your track pants and one of my tee shirts, letting your hair down from how it’s been all day at work.
This is the sort of thing that goes through my head.