So many plans, too little time.
So many faces, only one in my mind.
So many hands, is holding yours a crime?
So many places, but yours is the gold mine.
Too much things to do,
when should I schedule you?
Too many appointments made,
when are you asking me on a date?
So many dates in the calendar,
when’s the day you’ll be my groom?
So much to lose like racing cars,
tell me when exactly is the day of doom?
But I have so much love to give,
yet there's reality to live!
And we have a lot to grieve,
yet why do I still believe?
There used to be a brain where my head is,
now it can’t be saved by a broom.
"There was a sane and stable woman here,
if lost, find her in the emergency room."