Why do words come when I'm sad?
Nothing flows right when I'm glad.
I've told you how I feel, so why
You tell me things, nearly make me cry.
Hearing tales of lovers found
Im not the liked one, I'm losing ground
Games of strip poker, you were losing
Never seeing what I've been musing
You're not the first to break this ground
I now wonder why I'm not underground
Dreams of hope, sunk in the bog.
Sniffing my ankles, that great black Dog
Each night I hope as I wait for sleep
Sadly morning comes round but I'm still around
