Oil and Water

Oil and water, you and me, baby, we just don't work.

I'm water, cool and calm and steady,

You're oil, floating just above the surface,

Never quite touching where it matters most.

I try to hold you, but you slip right through me,

And every time I think it's time to walk away,

You smile that smile that lights up the darkness,

And suddenly I'm lost again.

I can't hold you, but I can't let you go.

Can't keep your heart, but I still need your touch.

We're oil and water, never meant to be one,

Always separate, no matter how close.

And every time I think I've found the strength to leave,

You pull me back without even trying.

Baby, what can I do?

Without you, I'm just water.

Sometimes a spark falls between us,

And your fire burns across the distance.

Your heat comes rushing through our contact,

Turning every goodbye into another hello.

I know we're different down to our nature,

Two worlds that never truly blend.

But your flame follows every river I travel,

And somehow I keep carrying you along.

I can't hold you, but I can't let you go.

Can't keep your heart, but I still need your touch.

We're oil and water, never meant to be one,

Always separate, no matter how close.

And every time I think I've found the strength to leave,

You pull me back without even trying.

Baby, what can I do?

Without you, I'm just water.

Maybe love ain't always merging into one thing.

Maybe love is learning how to flow side by side.

You keep your colors, I keep mine,

Two reflections dancing in the same light.

We may never become what we imagined,

But somehow we're more together than alone.

I can't hold you, but I can't let you go.

Can't change what we are, can't change what I know.

We're oil and water, forever ourselves,

Never mixing, but never apart.

And though we'll always stay two separate souls,

You make me more than I could be alone.

Baby, that's the truth I've found—

Without you, I'm just water.

With you, I feel complete somehow.