When the game started I knew it was true
The things you said that may or may not be you.
You looked as you talked, but it wasn’t at me,
I could have burst in flames like a old, broken down tree.
But you wouldn’t have noticed, either the tree or me.
They have your eye, your heart and my soul.
But all you worry about is who made the goal.
A rhyme is fine, lessens the work of my mind,
Cause I don’t really care if the rhyme isn’t there, not quite on time, isn’t mine.
But when you come back and do see me there,
I sure hope it isn’t to offer my chair… to them.
I guess its true what they say about you.
You’re just to good for me or that broken down tree.
When I am gone, then they’ll see, the work I put into me
but they’ll talk about you and why didn’t I see,
the time you spent working on that broken down old tree, me.