You’ve been waiting to long for a knock at the door.
A prince with a pretty glass slipper for you.
Well I’m not your prince, you’re not my stupid Cinderella

You’re not my:

Beacon in the fog,
the kiss upon my frog,
My shoe left at the ball,
the summer before the fall.
You’re not my sunshine after rain,
my kiss confused with pain
You’re not the lyric in my mind,
I couldn’t write you if I tried.

But I have still got
I have still got drinking bourbon whiskey.
I have still got time on my side.
And I have still got you.
But you…

You’re not my…

Chilly winter storm,
the only arms that could keep my warm,
You’re not the only stars at night,
you’re not my lightning in the sky.
You’re not the only love story I know,
the only one I could call my own.
You’re not the last line of my song…