She's always winning,
Always ahead.
Always the figure,
Draped on your bed.
She is the one,
By hand that you lead,
Into tender passions,
That I look on with dread.
She is the one,
That kisses your lips,
And deep inside,
I'm cut to the quick.
And everytime you look at me,
Your eyes give silent mockery.
And everytime she looks at me,
She laughs and says, "I won."