In Many Ways

Pulp

Hey 
you're treading on my life 
You're leaving marks, but that's alright 
In a year or so, I'll look back and I'll smile 
These things last only for a while 
In many ways 
this is a waste of time 
what will become of it all? 
I make you cry 
know you in crowded streets 
not what I wanted at all 
Then 
what else could I do 
instead of thinking about you? 
Pleasure now will justify our love 
See, I even call it "love" 
In many ways 
there's nothing I'd rather do 
one kiss makes sense of it all 
And what's to come? 
Let's just not think about it, it might never happen at all.