I know the game you're playing
I've seen it a hundred times
Whether I've been the victim
With innocent heart raked by sadistic claws
Or the attacker
Moving in on the owner of the heart
Of one I deem unworthy
In the arrogant belief that
I am the better one for her.

And now you slither with your belly in the dust
As you seek to take away my inspiration
The one I have loved like none other.
You casually examine her heart, her mind
And make your bid to offer her
Everything I cannot.
You want to turn her head with false promises
And fairies and unicorns
And the gallant, snow white stallion
Upon which you came only days ago.

I cannot thumb my nose at you
As much as I wish I could.
I cannot rest on my laurels
Only to wake up, and find that my heart
Has been torn from my breast
As love lies bleeding in my hands.
You are a definite threat
To the happiness I have recently rediscovered
With the sweetest companion I have ever met
Because you want what is part of her
The light in her eyes
The affection in her words
The pulse of her love.
And I cannot sit here and tell you
"You will never have it."

What happens when your promises do turn her head
And your words, your ways
Win her glance?
What happens when she sees how much she's been missing
And decides to try with another
One who seems more perfectly matched?
How can I fight you
When my biggest fan turns her attention elsewhere?

I hate having my hands tied
But I cannot tie her hands down
In hopes that it would keep her.
If your offer is tempting enough
If your words are honey-coated enough
If your touch is soft enough
Then she will be yours
And I will be alone
My only comfort, in knowing
That she is finally happy
That she finally has what she always wanted from me
But that I could not give her.

I sincerely hope that you fail
That you lose this game
And are forced to play clean with some other woman.
But if you win
I will know that I have not completely lost
Because the one I've loved so much
For what seems to be so long
Will finally be happy
And free... of me...

--Peter Johnson, 1997