They tell me I’m great, they tell I’m sweet.
They say let’s get married we’ll have four kids and a nice house and picket fence.
But I know something they don’t, you see it won’t be long till it’s just me again.
They tell me I’m pure, they tell me I’m perfect they say I’ve got more than the other girls do.
They say I’ve got moves and know how to dress. I’ve got class above all the rest.
They respect me.
Then before too long it’s like the old song, I’d rather go blind than to see you walk away, and we’ve never met and, I’m just someone that you used to know.
I wish I could do that, one day be in love and the next be all done. It must take skill, it must take will, it must take practice.
I must be practice.