"History" lyrics

I guess it didn't really happen (Happen)
Think you were moving in slow motion (Motion)
And just like once before, you lean beside the door
While I'm just staring at the floor
Oh, why does history still haunt me? (Haunt me)
Am I not finished with my story? (Story)
But he just radiates my kind of frequency
For sure, the next guy that will leave

With your blue grey, tie-dye shirt
And the red choppy words
And your black round glasses fit you too well
It's the smell of the subway
And the blue, chilly Monday
I still hear my thoughts, my words, my cries decay

Then I stop and slowly see her, talking to you (Talking to you)
Her laughing with you (Laughing with you)
Lipstick imbued
Into the picture that you drew
Of her long purple hair
And her black satin dress
And before I even think to confess

I guess it didn't really happen (Happen)
Think you were moving in slow motion (Motion)
And just like once before, you lean beside the door
While I'm just staring at the floor
Oh, why does history still haunt me? (Haunt me)
Am I not finished with my story? (Story)
But he just radiates my kind of frequency
For sure, the next guy that will leave me hanging

Me writing, the same old lyrics
Stop me, please
On the count of three
But I can't stop looking back at you

Looking back, looking back, looking back, yeah
Looking back, looking back, looking back, yeah
Looking back, looking back, looking back at you, you
Looking back, looking back, looking back, yeah
Looking back, looking back, looking back, yeah
Looking back, looking back, looking back at you, you