Stupid lovesick girl, he doesn’t care about you

Je ne sais pas ce que j’ai vu

In a man so loyal he wouldn’t talk to even me

Already praying for his next one; I hope that she

Is a little wiser than us two who came before her

He will hold her purse and rub her cheek and tell her how he adores her

But when the shelf life expires

And he’s growing tired of her after not even a year

We’ll pass along the bucket that caught both of our tears

One day when it’s full and he’s run out of chances

I hope he’ll remember every one of our dances

Under gray moonlit skies to Nat King Cole

Couldn’t be more impressed with how you played the role

Enraptured by the blue sunbeams radiating from his eyes

Wrapped in the gossamer blanket of his remarkable guise

I held each of his lies far too close to my core

Counting the days until I can settle the score

With the Angel of Love

I had a long way to fall from the high where

He let me go

And I splattered on the sidewalk.