City lights are glowing,
your bedroom light is dimming,
and we are caught pretending
that we could be more than friends.
I'm not your acquaintance,
no not tonight.

"I'm not just a friend,"
you say as we lie awake.
And tomorrow my heart will break
because these words won't mean anything.

Open your heart to me.
I already have.
It's just the age, It's just the age.
Because you're eight past ten, and I'm six past nine.

This'll hurt tomorrow, I said,
When we have to get up
and leave this bed.
But let's make the best of it.

Swallow fears, close our minds,
try to find someone to catch us pretending.
Now it's over
and our dream is ending.

So open your blinds and let the sunshine in.
Your beautiful eyes are looking at me again.
This could very well be our last time,
This could have very well been our last time.

This'll hurt tomorrow, I said,
when we have to leave this bed.
When we have to leave this bed,
this bed.

'Cause you're eight past ten,
and I'm six past nine.
It's just the age, It's just the age.