I never loved him, never cared, he doesn't care for caring.
I think he's sad. But I don't know. He doesn't much like sharing.
I don't fit in the life for which I know he is preparing.
He careless, cold and vain. But then, I'm kind of overbearing.
I'm always reaching. Trying. Hoping. Never quite comparing.
I'm always pleading, almost loving, stopping, never daring.
I might love him. He doesn't love. So its a hopeless pairing.
But still, things could be different, if he only cared for caring.