My eyes aren't the kind you'd write a song about
         no deep lakes of hazel to fall into

My beauty is nothing that would keep a tortured poet up at night
         nothing to compete with the spellbinding beauty of a harvest moon

My smile will never be anyone's reason to hold on
         nor will my soul, nor will my heart

No one will ever wish they could dive deeper into my mind
         for there is nothing of interest inside

I will never create anything with my hands
so mesmerizing
         as to make someone give me a second glance, a second thought, a second chance

All I can offer is passion and naivety
         and I'm sorry darling, because I know that was never enough