Every good boy does fine
until he starts to play with your mind
feeding you lines then asking for space
measure for measure he plays in your face.
playing you like the keys of a grand piano
until you tell him he has got to go.
Then he changes his tune.
but this rhythm bring blues
and you just can not continue.
You know what comes next
as he modulates up a step
asking to move in cause he just can’t be apart
So, you change the key to your heart
so he cant repeat the line.
He knows it’s CODA time.
the song is over.
Then he cries
and you missed the way
he plucked your strings,
so you play the song again,
knowing it will end