I had all and then most of you,
some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do,
haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met.
Some days, you're the only thing I now
Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold.
This whole night we've been worrying there's some dark version of us out there somewhere. What if we're the dark version?
— Now, do you have a map? Of the house. Do you have a map? Because I'm not going to be able to find my way in the dark. You see, at midnight, I'm going to leave my wing and I'm going to come find you. And I'm going to turn the handle of your bedroom door without making a sound and none of the maids will know.
— You don't know maids.
— They hear a pin drop?
— If there's a man in the house, they listen. They take turns.
— So, let them listen.
— Do you have engine oil? Before I set off for Birmingham, the car needs oil.
— I'm sure my husband kept some in the garage. I can get someone to do it.
— This evening or tomorrow?
— Well, we're so far from anywhere, people usually stay over. Especially before cars, when it was just carriages, people used to stay over all the time.
— But I have a car.
— Yes.
— And you have engine oil.
We always feel worse in the darker months.