We were alone and I was singing this song, for you.

You have a song,
each of you
every one of you
and it makes me think of you.
If I miss you too much,
maybe I'll sing it too.

But you all have a song,
except two,
who possibly didn't mean much,
didn't brighten my days blue.

We start with you,
he's who'd stand out on the corner in the pouring rain,
but I didn't have a broken smile,
I, who didn't stay a while.

You will be loved, just not by me.

Then there's you without a song,
probably is, but in Klingon.

Then there's you,
with whom I did click,
you left a song, Sympathique.
It's all French, but it's so happy,
but you were practical, not at all sappy.

Successively came you,
my biggest crush,
the one I didn't touch.
Through the good times and the bad
you were the best I never had.

My other nameless,
faithless.

Then came you,
I convinced myself about you.
You probably did too.
We tried, we sure did,
I would've given
All of my love, all of my love,
all of my love to you.

You probably would too,
just not to me,
it wasn't me.
I pray you will find someone,
your special meant to be.

Then comes you,
the disillusioned one,
you taught me that
if you're in love
you are the lucky one,
cause most of our feelings
they are dead and they are gone.

I wish they weren't though.

But after you, came you,
I don't have a song,
but I have lot's to say,
as did you.
Attaching yourself
in the most unattached way possible.
Maybe something like
the more I see, the less I know,
the more I'd like to let it go.

Finally, there was you,
another of the best I never hads,
but you were something else,
your body was a cage,
that kept you from dancing
with the one you loved.

That wasn't me, but it sure as hell will be someone,
one day,
I hope you set yourself free.


Does anyone know my song?