I saw your eyes swallowed whole by another’s;
His hands hovering, hiding in the space of separation,
But we all can see his motive, his preparation;
I can read your hearts, you gaze and smile as lovers.
Finally I’ve reached where the lies can end;
I no longer hear the half-hearted invitations,
The ex post facto congratulations.
You can stop now, you don’t have to pretend.
And maybe I can’t play guitar so well,
But for all that must I bask in hell?
Does what once mattered more than all
Really have to suffer so far a fall?
Well, who the hell really cares at all?
I know that in the end I’m just too small.