Make sure nobody sees you leave.

He'd keep his head down as he steps out of that house, out of your arms.

What started in beautiful rooms, Ends with meetings in parking lots.

He'll be nothing more than your little secret.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs, And clandestine meetings and longing stares.

But god, did he wish he could be something more.

For you, he'd ruin himself a million little times.