I'm on a private helicopter with my favourite ex-girlfriend
Tiny little cabin in the sky
Now we're alone, and we can remember how we felt before we were angry:
We were guilty and we were bitter
(I must admit I said a few things, but...)

I'm still attracted to you
Sorry we've been so so cold, so
Eight miles high and three hours till landing
God your hair smells really great

I'm on a hovercraft to Paris with my former best friend
We have to get to the cinematheque
We're not alone, but no one speaks English here, so we're free
To look into eachother's minds
And see what we're thinking like we always used to

I miss talking to you
But you never draw me out, so
Cast off the ego scars, and lets go hit the bars

I reserve the right to hold my grudges
Friends like you, you know the rest
But all told, I hold onto my anger for too long
Until it's a joke
The night is cold
The joke is old
(And poorly told, I told you once)

I'm on a private helicopter with my favourite ex-girlfriend
No one to keep up appearances for
Now we're alone, and we can remember how we felt at first:
The desperate need to be together
Must have been good for something, sugar

I'm still attracted to you
No one's making us do what we're supposed to
So lie here in my arms
Lie here in my arms

Lie here in my arms