They all say, just let it go; as if I never even tried
They advise me, forget what was, and accept our love has died
Petty consolation prize, a proffered drink of real
To wash away the lingering touch of hope I dare to feel
As I contemplate grim reveries, my thoughts trip over you
And again I find myself thus floored, declaring it’s not true
That you and I, no longer us, no longer we will be
That now the after ever won’t be spent so happily
Well blast the awful fairytales!
Those fake princes and their charms!
Who needs a magic genie’s lamp or shiny wishing stars?
I charge them all to tell me now, let go and to forget
As if I’ll truly back away and let this be just it