Long story short,
I walked alone within the walls of fort.
He’s not mine, so I'm not his valentine.
My heart may be his, but his lips I won't kiss.
I might be in love, but I'll still hit the club.
Long story yet also short,
as I’ve already cut the cord.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
no need to guess and find any clue.
I cried alone within our favorite church.
He’s not my valentine, he ran out of time.
My letters have him, my lights are now dim.
I have another’s flowers, I'll remain a lover.
Long story short, unlike those letters,
without each other we'll be much better.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
image of my smeared lipstick, it’s not by you.