Six years later, and I'm still here,
tapping on these keys,
sentences of our love story.
And it goes like this:
He was a boy,
And she was a girl,
both with the best of intentions.
He liked her,
And she liked him,
And that was that for a while.
But the girl had another fella,
One that always made her sad,
So to him she said "See ya later."
Now the boy and the girl
they could be together, and it was right,
And they laughed by day, and they kissed at night.
The boy would look into the girl's eyes,
And say, "I love you. You're mine."
So months went by,
But for the boy, his attention span grew short.
He made the girl cry,
He told her he tried, but their love just wasn't for real.
She wondered, what the hell?
Because in love she had fell,
And the boy just said, "I'm sorry."
Now the boy and the girl, were no longer a pair,
They both went their separate ways.
And the girl slit her wrists,
And the boy clenched his fists,
because it was the biggest mistake he made.
And our love story died
A long and slow death.
The boy strung her along,
for far too long.
And more than once,
told her he wanted her back.
And the girl, she believed him,
because she couldn't do anything else,
and the boy, he left her,
again.
And our love story died,
it finally died,
the day you looked into her eyes
and said, "I love you. You're mine."