Your story.
Your own song.

[Verse 1] You leave a trail of open cupboards like you're fleeing from a crime, And say you're almost ready while you're checking kickoff time. Your mug is near the dishwasher, a brave but partial try, You say the final step is where my special talents lie. You narrate every parking space as though we're on the news, Then take the scenic shortcut through a car park we can't use. [Chorus] You're my favourite bad habit, My daily, darling, what was that? You make me roll my eyes, then laugh until I cry, And I fall for you again, imagine that. You're my favourite bad habit, Come here, you ridiculous man. [Verse 2] You ask me where your phone is while you're speaking through the phone, Your socks are in the kitchen for a reason still unknown. You turn the music louder for the bit you cannot sing, Then use a wooden spatula to headline everything. I know your face before you say you fixed it with some tape, And how you'll take the smallest slice when there's one piece of cake. [Bridge] You know which silence means I'm tired, which means I need a drive, You keep my car full in the winter, bring the plants back to life. Under all your little habits is a love that follows through, So leave the stupid cupboard. Come and let me dance with you. [Chorus] You're my favourite bad habit, My daily, darling, what was that? You make me roll my eyes, then laugh until I cry, And I fall for you again, imagine that. You're my favourite bad habit, Come here, you ridiculous man.