We met one Monday night where my friend bartends and always gives me drinks for free. I caught you staring, or were you comparing the guy you were talking with to me. Then you said: "This place is dead, and this drink is going to my head. Take me home." I will, if you chill, there's still time to kill and this night just started looking better. She bought herself a guitar, and she learned a few chords. She wrote me a song that goes like this:
Get out, get dressed, you're just like the rest, there's only one thing you're after. You're still the same self-centered bastard. You stay out all night with your shady friends just getting plastered. This relationship's just my latest disaster.
I thought that I was doing everything right and giving her everything she needs. But I wake up one morning and all that she's left is a break-up note that reads: You don't, and you won't ever see my side of things... Ahh come on. I would, if I could, but everything I thought was good would just upset her.
Our points of view will never meet. I always miss what's incomplete.