He could be good for me.
But he acts just like you,
Well not like you.
Cause to be you is impossible to do.
But your dialect is similar
and there's something about his humor.
He could've had a chance,
If only he'd made it to me sooner.
So fuck you for being perfect
And fuck you for leaving.
I see no sense in searching now
Cause Im left with nothing to believe in.
The strength of your memory lives comfortably in my head.
Steady throughout the seasons.
And my friends don't bother to ask my why,
Cause I've drunkenly plead a thousand reasons.
He could be good for me.
But he reminds me of you,
Just not quite as perfected.
There's been many to step up to the plate.
An many have been rejected.
Cause their presence isn't as magic as yours.
And theres never a sign of a connection.
No mans touch is joined with comfort.
Passion is non existent.
No love welcomed.
And it don't matter how much they tell me they "love" me.
Cause something's always missing.
I don't feel that tingle in my tummy.
And I don't get those feelings.
He could've been good for me,
But he's not you.
And that makes all the difference.