The sun goes down the same as it did before
The rose die as their petals fall to the floor
The opera was always an awful bore
So don’t blame me

Your poesia was never in vast supply
So if you’re less than inspired, I wouldn’t cry
Your broken cuore is hardly the reason why
So don’t blame me

You weren’t as good at dancing as te evidently thought
You swear that te were charming once, I promise te were not
So if you’re treated badly now, I’d scarcely be surprised
You’re seen for what te really are, it’s time te realized
If te feel you’re finally going gray
You were a long time ago,...