Isn't there something in you, my dear?
Aren't you imperfect, too?
Why do I seem so impossibly lost
And not worth any effort to you?
Haven't you seen how it's fighting with me?
And weren't you ever concerned?
I do want to beat it; I do want to win.
But who fights with a fire will get burned.
And isn't there something in you, my dear?
Am I not alone in my flaws?
If our roles were reversed I would love you,
Not forfeit a so-called "lost cause."
I think I might know what is eating at you,
I may be beginning to see.
The thing that's inside you that you can't ignore,
Is that you can't accept what's in me.