The girl is on stage again, but there’s something different this time. Instead of the normal euphoric feeling that surrounds her, a sadder, more morose aura is enveloping her. She can’t put her finger on it, but something isn’t right with this scene… something is terribly wrong.
She begins strumming, a regular pattern in her mind. E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C. There isn’t a happy note in this melody, and she thinks it fitting, considering the sad circumstances.
The boy is there again, but his eyes aren’t happy anymore, they’re sad, and the girl wonders why everything has to be so sad. There’s someone else on his arm, a blonde, with perfect eyes and perfect teeth and a perfect figure, and it hurts her to realize that this new girl is everything she’s not. He deserves her, she thinks, because two such perfect figures are meant to find each other.
E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C.
This pattern keeps her going, keeps her from breaking down at the sheer emotion in the room, the feelings of sadness, hurt, and pain that is coming from all sides of the building and trapping her.
The boy has tears in his eyes, and she doesn’t know why. He’s got everything he’s ever needed. She should be the one crying. She has nothing.
E minor, A minor, C.
The girl sings into the microphone, and a beautiful noise fills the air, beautiful to everyone except her, because she is her own worst critic, and never has thought much of herself.
The boy’s new girl clings to him tightly, fitting to him perfectly. Once again, perfection is shoved in the girl’s face and she is made all too aware that she is exactly the opposite of what he needed. He needed perfection, and all she had to offer was an old guitar and a genuine smile, something that is hard to come by anymore because the world’s turned fake, she figures, the world’s turned completely upside down and all she can do is hope and pray that someday things will get to the point where all she can do to express herself is sing.
E minor, A minor, C.
She begins strumming, a regular pattern in her mind. E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C. There isn’t a happy note in this melody, and she thinks it fitting, considering the sad circumstances.
The boy is there again, but his eyes aren’t happy anymore, they’re sad, and the girl wonders why everything has to be so sad. There’s someone else on his arm, a blonde, with perfect eyes and perfect teeth and a perfect figure, and it hurts her to realize that this new girl is everything she’s not. He deserves her, she thinks, because two such perfect figures are meant to find each other.
E minor, A minor, C. E minor, A minor, C.
This pattern keeps her going, keeps her from breaking down at the sheer emotion in the room, the feelings of sadness, hurt, and pain that is coming from all sides of the building and trapping her.
The boy has tears in his eyes, and she doesn’t know why. He’s got everything he’s ever needed. She should be the one crying. She has nothing.
E minor, A minor, C.
The girl sings into the microphone, and a beautiful noise fills the air, beautiful to everyone except her, because she is her own worst critic, and never has thought much of herself.
The boy’s new girl clings to him tightly, fitting to him perfectly. Once again, perfection is shoved in the girl’s face and she is made all too aware that she is exactly the opposite of what he needed. He needed perfection, and all she had to offer was an old guitar and a genuine smile, something that is hard to come by anymore because the world’s turned fake, she figures, the world’s turned completely upside down and all she can do is hope and pray that someday things will get to the point where all she can do to express herself is sing.
E minor, A minor, C.
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