You promise me there's no other.
You're trying to change me,
You're making me bother.
You want me more perfect,
To fit in with your life
You tell me you love me
And yet, I'm feeling strife.
You tell me you'll visit
And arrive two hours late.
I'm feeling melancholy,
If this is my fate.
I see you still shopping
You're online and scanning
You tell me I'm perfect
Then why do I feel damning?
