I keep thinking of her,
Her perfect life that screws mine,
Mine that's always pushed to brown bottles never wine,
Wine and whine my life isn't perfect.
I'm a prisoner of the past,
Past is my present it's all but one,
One of my many mistakes,
Mistake to move on for being friends.
It always starts with how have you been?
Been OK I miss you,
You when it's me its always warm,
Warmth that keeps me there waiting.
It dawns that I need to move on,
On with my lifein solitude,
Solitude of me, myself and I,
I have to focus on me.
