I can show you exactly what it feels like
to miss someone-
I can show you the meaning of a real
tender love- unconditional,
and give you all of it in an analogy
about watering plants or something,
and pray that you'll listen for a second
and learn about me,
but sweetheart,
expectations are the vapors that escape my whispers,
and they can't be seen
as much I can't be heard,
and I know they won't be remembered
when I blow them in your face,
seductively or not.
I know you know how to play a ***** game.
And while I'll try my hardest,
my darndest to play it better-
I know what it requires.
I know you have it and I don't, and if I were to,
I wouldn't be your sweetheart, would I now?
No, I wouldn't be me-
and every time I realize how much power
I give that stellar smile of yours,
sweetheart,
it doesn't seem to show up.
I know when it shows up, though, because it always does.
It shows up when I've lost hope,
and I'm feeling flighty, lost, and ready to beg-
when I'm terrified it'll never show up again,
it shows up,
and I feel saved.
But tonight, it's going to play differently,
sweetheart.
And I know you'll chop this up nice and fine,
to be something you're proud of me about,
because you know,
I'm just your little sweetheart,
but tonight,
I'm going make something out of this empty I feel
when you're not around.
I'm going fill it up with my stellar smile,
and show myself the meaning of a real
tender love-unconditional.
I'm going to take the loneliness that fills me,
break it up on this piece,
and smoke it away
while learning my life is better,
sweetheart,
without playing your games.