I know I’m not perfect.
I never claimed to be.
But honestly, love,
She’s much less perfect than me.

I expected more from her, maybe less from you
All I know is that this feels so wrong, love
She shouldn’t be with you.
I thought she was my friend, but now she’s gone too
You’ve stolen her away, love
I expected more from you.

I know I’m not perfect. That much is true.
But when you said you didn’t want my baggage, love,
I suppose that wasn’t true.
She has more problems than I do.
She’s been abused and scarred and is aggressively neurotic
She’s positively catatonic
When nothing goes her way, she makes an embarrassing display
So why, love, did you choose her?

She’s a walking skeleton, with hollow eyes and a plain face
I know I’m not a super model, love
But even I can see that she looks out of place.

I’m not perfect, love
She knows it, you know it, I do too
But someday you’ll see, love
She’s got more baggage than even you.

She’s so different from what you call attractive
I can’t discern why she’s with you
I can only guess that you don’t know her at all.
If you knew the large amounts of baggage she carries, you’d run away from her too.

She must be lying to you, love.
Either about her life, or about who she is.
Putting her best foot forward is different, love, if she’s withholding the truth.

I know I’m not perfect, this much I do
But I hope you’re not true
Because, after all, love, she’s much less perfect than you.

I have the feeling you’re a revenge ****. Her ex hates you with all his being.
I almost wish that were true, love.
Because I’d give anything for this to not be real.