I can't help but remember, all the pain and the lies.
I've felt the tenderness, of a hand stroke my face;
but it never meant a thing, when I was so easily replaced.
These words are all familiar, I've heard them time and time again,
there's a strong tendency to believe, but I'll get hurt if I let you in.
I can say there's something different, and that you're someone I can trust,
but I'll soon find I'm mistaken, confusing sincerity with lust.
I've lived through this all, the wonderful fun-filled days,
which are always an illusion, because I soon learn of their ways.
When will that look, the one I see in your eyes,
mean that I'm allowed to fall, because you will not tell me lies?
And the tenderness I feel as you gently touch my cheek,
when will it be okay for this touch to make me weak?
When will the words be true, honest and sincere
and when can I trust that you will always be near.
When can I trust that you truly care about me?
and know you'll be there, what will it take to see?
Is it possible for happiness to be more than an illusion,
Without me having to worry about its conclusion?
Your look, your touch, your word, your ways,
how can I be certain it will last more than a few days?
There's no way to be sure, only one way to see,
and that's to be strong, I think you're the one for me.
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