As I replay the last kiss I realise
I should be in fields of flowers
with my true love, not reliving
what I thought was glory
with someone who never really loved me.
That's how it always
ends up, isn't it? Tramp.
They say, tramp. I'm no tramp,
just lovely and lonely. He writes all
these couplets between my name
and I pass over with flowers
and toss over laughter.
Don't tear yourself apart
over this, no one is here to
hurt you but yourself.
There's a boy that misses you,
he sings your song, over and over
he calls, and you're missing the signals.
And boy, there's a girl that
misses you, she wrote the songs
you sing, and you just don't know
how much you mean. I've lost my blossom,
and I've lost my shine, I spend all day
with you on my mind.
F**k the arms of the other,
I'm always speaking of you
and laughing of you and
swooning of you.
I keep the belief in this love,
I was always the optimist anyway.