Romantic Fatigue

I have to admit that I am one of the many

Who thought that a guitar would win him a lady.

My teenage years, they were a feminine drought,

And I thought that a serenade would help out,

And it seemed to be working for a couple of years,

I wrote a few songs and they wrought a few tears.

But when I hit my twenties, it ran out of steam;

I seemed to be suffering from romantic fatigue.

And I never know which song I should play her.

Each melody is a memory of a not-forgotten failure.

So when I get out my guitar tonight to do what I do,

Remember, I probably didn't write this song for you.

So as I have mentioned, the shelf-life was short,

The scheme wasn't working, despite what I thought.

The ladies all left me alone in the end,

So I had to switch all the names around and then sing it again.

And every life-long love, and every best friend

Slipped away into the past.

Take my words with caution - I can't pretend that you're the first,

You won't be the last.

I never know which song I should play her;

Each melody is a memory of a not-forgotten failure.

So when I get out my guitar tonight to do what I do,

Remember, I probably didn't write this song,

No I certainly didn't write this song,

No I never, never wrote a song for you.