My interpretation.

Good job MIKA. On my way to work this morning you crawled into my earholes and looked in my brain and sang me a song about what you saw there. And it was called "My Interpretation". A song I've heard many times before but that fits just perfectly now.

You talk about life
And talk about death
And everything in between
Like it's nothing
And the words are easy.

You talk about me
And talk about you
And everything I do
Like it's something
That needs repeating.

I don't need an alibi
Or for you to realize
The things we left unsaid
Are only taking space up in our heads.

Make it my fault,
Win the game,
Point the finger,
Place the blame,
And curse me up and down
It doesn't matter now.

'Cause I don't care
If I never talk to you again.
This is not about emotion --
I don't need a reason
Not to care what you say
Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation
And it don't --
It don't make sense.

The first two weeks turn into ten
I hold my breath and wonder when it'll happen.
Does it really matter?

If half of what you said is true
And half of what I didn't do could be different,
Would it make it better?

If we forget the things we know,
Would we have somewhere to go?
The only way is down.
I can see that now.

'Cause I don't care
If I never talk to you again.
This is not about emotion --
I don't need a reason
Not to care what you say
Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation
And it don't --
It don't make sense.

It's really not such a sacrifice...

If I never talk to you again.
This is not about emotion --
I don't need a reason
Not to care what you say
Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation
And it don't --
It don't make sense.

And it don't have to make no sense to you at all
Cause it's my interpretation.