frank turner-a decent cup of tea

hadnt been a day when everything had turned out right

she called me up and asked me to come over in the night

to make her cups of tea

and listen quietly as she starts

to list the latest list of bastards

who had trampled on her heart

i see her in the nightclubs

i meet her in the bars

at rooftop after-parties

or cramped into friend's cars

and we talk about the weather

and how she drowns her pain in drink

and i nod and never ever

dare to tell her what i think

she summers by my seas
she winters without me
she cries into her tea
that she's secretly lonely
oh me
what am i to do
it's obvious to me
she never seems to see

that it's not about the days

when everything has turned out right

yeah it's more about the moments

when she calls me in the night

to make her cups of tea

and wash the weary worries from her head

and then to draw the pain out slowly

as i put her into bed

and i slip this information

into all our conversations

but she never seems to listen

and she never seems to see