A woman’s an emotional creature
She’s not a bit ashamed of her tears.
She’ll give you her attention and rub your neck
And say the things you love to hear.
Mild as milk,
Soft as silk,
Speaking your name like a prayer.
But once she stops believing you still care,
She’ll leave you like you were never even there.
A woman likes to tell you her troubles
She likes to hear what you did all day.
She talks about the little things in great big ways
And hangs on every word you say.
Leaning close,
Deep engrossed,
In every detail you can spare.
But once that heavy silence fills the air,
She’ll leave you like you were never even there.
Things have changed. Don’t you get it yet?
You’re out in that strange new cold.
You’re frozen here and she’s moving on.
If you still haven’t said it yet,
It probably won’t be told.
Cause when she goes – believe it – she’s gone.
The woman used to wait at the table
The woman used to wait in the bed
She waited so attentively for all those nights
For all the things you never said.
Dawn comes down.
You look around
And find that her closet is bare.
It may take years, but one day you’re aware
In all the time you were never even there.