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I was sitting in the subway at five past eleven
'think my neighbour was drunk
and the smell of cigars
it could have been wednesday or one day before
I'm not sure 'bouth the time or the line
which I took
I didn't care 'bout the right direction
it was you, who was on my mind
the surroundings were dark with sweat, and sigust,
a few lights and the sound of breaking wheels

Could have been
it was a wrong decision to ask you
could have been
it was a wrong idea to keep on loving you
it could have been

Arriving my flat I felt bored and depressed
the sight of dirty cups and dishes all around
I never thought it could be so hard
the emptiness inside and many questions
I only feel sorrow deep inside me
it's like a disease without a cure
advice of a friend is just a cold comfort
it can't stop the tears running down my cheek

Could have been
it was a wrong decision to ask you
could have been
it was a wrong idea to keep on loving you
it could have been

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