She was the last perfect thing I ended my month with
And she was the first perfect thing I started the next with
I'm kind of afraid, afraid that I'll see nothing perfect anymore
Don't blame me,
Don't blame, you never looked into her sparkling eyes, heard her voice or felt her soft hards..
Never felt her indescribable hug, never touched her skin, never taste her eatable lips..
Don't blame me,
How can I like a smell that isn't hers,
How can I enjoy a laugh..
Or stare at someone..
That isn't her,
How can I, how can I like a girl after her.