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BF is playing in my dining room
She makes the candels weep
It's after four, got my pen in hand
So I refuse to sleep

I stop and start and start again
And tryna to pretend
That this letter I will write to you
Is one I'll never send

If that's what romance is, then what is love?
We had our chances; it can't be undone
One weekend in Paris and two nights in Rome
If that's what romance is, why did you go
Home?

I'm staring at my piano keys
But I refuse to play
It's like an unfinished melody
If there's far too much to say

The ink is wet, the paper's dry
It's waiting for the word
From the windmill spinning in my mind
And the voice I've never heard

If that's what romance is, then what is love?
We had our chances; it can't be undone
One weekend in Paris or two nights in Rome
If that's what romance is, why did you go
Home?

Home, home, home
Walking blindly under the angriest of skies
To the very place we met
One of us remembers
And one of us can't forget

If that's what romance is, then what is love?
We had our chances; it can't be undone
One weekend in Paris or two nights in Rome
If that's what romance is, why did you go
Home?