This will not last nearly long enough.

The party was just worth it for the few minutes on your porch
All alone with just you and the world
The murmur of our voices is kind of like a careless sleeve on a wet canvas
Blurring and smearing the scenery
Making everything a little stranger and more different than it was already
It's a few minutes after 1:30, I should probably be going home
I think about asking if I could have the couch, but I don't yet know you well enough for that
So I groan and get up, say it's time I hit the road
And you smile sadly and wave goodbye with two fingers
In retrospect I probably could've stayed the night if I'd've been bold enough

All that's keeping me up is the hardness of the concrete sidewalk
I can just make out the glow of your cigarette as I turn the corner
Like the stilling of your addiction as you inhale the smoke
This won't last
It just won't last