Put my head through the window, I'm all smiles and so is 
she. 'What's it been now, like, three years?' (the way 
you look I'd say it's more like ten) Exchanges. One 
gesture. Two good-byes. Naturally it's no surprise. Her 
eyes shift to the left, my right, as she starts to speak. 
I'm on my knees again and she hasn't even stood up yet. 
I'm just one, in a long line of boys she let put their 
tongues in her mouth, I'm just one in a long line of 
boys... She looks so three-dimensional, but I know she's 
four. I wish I could wash out the color, there's 
just...something about black and white. Every word of my 
small talk could be translated as: 'Please forgive me.' 
She looks so three-dimensional, but I remember four. I 
wish I could wash out all those colors, make everything 
black and white. Every word of my small talk could be 
translated as 'Forgive me please.'