When he stares I see hardwood floors and her.
My eyes are powerless to look away,
She is not the devil, she holds no sway;
He is free to love that far away girl,
He chooses: I mourn. Though I give no myrrh:
I am unable to condemn, I pray,
For his smile is worth more than my way.
So there is no love of which I am sure:
I hold myself in and keep in my place,
Watch them smile with melancholy eyes,
Though many miles keep them separate.
I must believe that my love will not waste,
Lock'd on his Someone Else. I am not wise,
I only choose to believe in things great.