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Friday, September 23, 2005


  Love can be a tender thing
Given to a lucky few.
For those people it can spring
Their broken hearts anew.

I am a giver,
Not a receiver,
Yet she left me
instead of me leaving her.

When I walk the streets,
I look at those lucky men.
I get jealous and begin to believe
my love life will be grim.

Although I try
I fail in the end.
Funny how perseverance
Doesn't bend.

I keep on trying,
I still get shot down.
It will kepp on going
Cause I keep going 'round.

Then I look at others who fight
And I begin to grin.
I begin to say,
"Maybe I'm lucky not to be him."

So I just sing as I walk
Down the cold cobblestone street,
Singing Yesterday and Norwegian Wood,
Wondering when my ends will meet.

Then I see her, walking alone
Looking at me with a grin.
My face goes red and I follow her.
Oh boy, here we go again.



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