I've been bullied, and hurt,
Been treated worse than dirt.
Been a welcome mat near an open door,
Every time ending up on the same floor.
Was hurt from the start,
More than one broken heart.
So many times I've been torn apart,
I've got it down to a fine art.
When i was little i used to dream,
Of prince charming, and how he'd seem.
But in the world, he's not really here,
Always alone, i begin to fear.
I go from man to man,
From the fire to frying pan.
Finally down to a fine art,
How to get a broken heart.
Do i always set myself up, knowing i will fall,
And i seem surprised, when he never to calls.
They say, it gets easier, if you do something over again,
But the truth is, it never stops hurting, i still feel the pain.
If i even did meet the right guy,
He'd hate me, and then I'd wonder why.
Am i numb to love, do i even need my heart?
Am i afraid, that I'll love, and lose my fine art?
I should have learned from my past,
But i still make mistakes, and they're gone so fast.
Should I give on love, Why does my hope drive on?
Could i let it go, could i be that strong?
If i let it go,
I'll never know.
I'll keep risking my heart,
Longing to rid... my fine fine art.
