One sweet day, I'll get over you,
And tell you straight to your choked face,
That I am not stupid to argue,
Whether I gamble with any of your horse races!
Yes, I had been so dumb and moronic,
To your tasteless, grody "Holas".
This girl might be your trash, oh how ironic.
For a troubled, stranger's wicked dash!
It hurts so, so much I couldn't bear
anymore, and it crushed my being a woman.
You said, it wasn't your fault for my heart to spare,
An impossible love affair, with this fuddled American.
Go ahead, have fun but remember not to look back,
Because I'm not the lady you once goofed off with.
You know what, I'm no boobie and brainless you could pack,
Up in a box of your pointless, useless, bits-and-pieces "Granny" smith!
Your's truly,
The Little Coward
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