Why am I not
The only one you love?
I told her so many times.
'We could live alone,
Just the two of us.
Is it so hard to be happy?'

I was expecting that: she messed around
So much that she met Roger.
He's dumb,
He just likes football.
The writing's on the wall:
She's gonna be thrashed.

It's silly:
I can't forget her.
It's so difficult not to see
All sorts of old moments,
Gestures and people,
Things you cannot guess.

So, I took this old song
And I made her a last gift.
But I don't promise
That, if she tomes home,
She would be the only one
For whom I would play.