I wasn't taking advantage of her vulnerability.
It certainly was not a pity ****.
She was crying, and clinging.
It was the only way I knew of
To make her feel good.
To give her a release.
Does that make me a good man?
What makes a man?
I don't know.

It is never an issue,
Until it is uttered out loud.
Now we both know
That she will open her legs before she opens her heart.
I'll told her that is stupid,
And that she is not stupid,
But still beautiful.
Does that make me a good man?
What makes a man?
I don't know.

I'd make her mine if I could.
As far as she's concerned,
She belongs to the weeds on her front lawn.