This Song

You won’t ever hear this song
It won’t be finished ’til you’re long gone
and you never liked country radio.
It doesn’t matter, then, I guess,
if what I say is more or less
an echo of unspoken “told you so’s.”

You told me that I’d never make it
Until I learned how not to fake it
and tried to be much kinder than I am.
Looks you’re right, I’m at rock bottom;
I’d call on friends, but I ain’t got ’em,
and if I did they wouldn’t give a damn.

You were right, and I was wrong
I was weak, and you were strong;
I didn’t trust my heart, just my fool head.
I was wrong, and you were right,
and so I’m here alone tonight
I don’t have you; I’ve got this song instead.

You won’t ever hear this song
so you’ll not get to sing along
and find you have the words all down by heart.
It doesn’t matter much, I guess,
that doesn’t make me miss you less,
or shorten this sad time we’ve been apart.

You told me that I’d lost all feeling
and tried too hard to stop revealing
the bitter man behind the plastic smile.
Looks like you’re right, I’m down to nothing;
might act real tough, but I’d be bluffing,
just trying not to break down all the while.

You were right, and I was wrong
I was weak, and you were strong;
I didn’t trust my heart, just my fool head.
I was wrong, and you were right,
and so I’m here alone tonight
I don’t have you; I’ve got this song instead.

It’s not likely you’ll hear this song
It won’t be finished ’til you’re gone
and you won’t buy my records anymore.
It doesn’t matter, then, I guess,
but still I’ll say it, more or less,
because that chance is all I’m living for.

15 JAN 2006

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