Not About a Birthday

I'm never really satisfied
Until i'm home early every night-
A sort of bold social suicide
Or a temporary place to hide
There never was a plan tonight
Until I showed up at your door
Although I kind of knew all along
That I would end up on your living room floor
Hoping you don't mind
There never is a gaurantee
You might get really sick of me
Right in the middle of our special night
If you would leave, that would be all right
I'm never really satisfied
A slow kiss and a bottle of whine
Doesn't make anything OK
So i'm leaving anyway
Hoping you don't mind