Melancholy-quite the folly,
Your sordid sense of love.
Meant to be–couldn’t be,
Sent from God above.

All distraught must be caught–
The feel I know too well.
Can’t believe they all deceive;
The lies they try to tell.

Begin again, another sin
To love the way we do.
It isn’t fair, I couldn’t care
For someone not called you.