Text: Counting Crows. Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings. Anyone But You.

I'm always thinking
Of someone new
I'm never sitting
Ok with you
There's always something else on my mind
There's always something I can't find

You think about anything you can
I think about you
I'll think about anything it's true

I'm almost perfect
Some of the time
I'm also sinking
Some of the time

I'm almost ready
Yeah, it's almost true
For almost anyone but you

You think about anything you can
I think about you
I'll think about everything it's true

I'm always sinking
Beneath the sand
You're holding nothing in your hand

You think about anything you can
I think about you
But I'll think about anything it's true