No one else ever calls me beautiful as much as you do,
No one else ever says the words “I love you” as much as you do.
You kill me, you know that?

And no one else ever holds me so close like you do,
No one ever walks with me, talks with me, and stays and comforts me,
Or at least, not as much as you do. . . .

You’re really killing me.
And the world turns, and the smile fades, and so does the grief. . .

No one else ever says or does any of that as much as you do,
And no one else ever says and does all of that as much as you do,
Or at least, not to so many other people. . .

Not as much as you do. . . .
Ha, oh, you kill me so well,
And oh, how so meaningless your killing has all become.