I can already see that you idolize her,
shes so far up on your pedestal that
when she falls it'll be inevitable,
she'll become only a smudge,
a stain on the ground at my feet
so easily washed away and then
my slow and steady will soon again
look good to you

but you wont look good to me;
you told of her character like an angel
while you tore me down as petty
you disrespected me to honor the frenchie
and to say I saw this coming is an understatement
my intuition is so on point,
to stay sane I have to medicate it
looking into your eyes and choosing to believe you
was a mistake I wont make twice
I wont stand for it -- I'll sit down
and quietly stare you down until you
realize my choice is made, now it's yours;
be honest with me, who do you value more?