You say you're not looking; we're nothing alike.
Am I heart-born, or lower? Is my brain on strike?
We were born years apart, and I'm near out of season.
That's the point. Love's there to say, "hell with the reasons,"
and I'm here to ask, "how to know, but to try?"
But say you don't want me, and I'll say goodbye.
This is such a fantastic response to Simple Thing. You've seen right past the rationale, and really who was it going to fool anyway?
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