As I sit alone in an empty room
Sweeping up dust with just a broom
I stop and wonder what he thinks of me
And how much better I'd need to be
I know he thinks of me as just a friend
Someone to fight with until the very end
I don't know what he WANTS us to be
Or even if he thinks I'm his type of pretty
Or even if we could ever be more
I know I don't want to be just his friend anymore
I want to know what his hand would feel like intertwined in mine
I want to be the person that he'll spend all his time
Too bad I can't be the one he says he'll love forever
The one person he knows he'll always treasure
So I'll sit here alone in an empty room
Sweeping up dust with a broken broom
I'll sit and wonder what he thinks of me
And even if he ever wants to be
Can I stand this torture anymore?
Or will I be his friend forevermore?