I don’t think love will be neat and clean-edged, a bingo game,
crying out to Wheel of Fortune that you’ve solved the puzzle,
no neat Monopoly pass go and collect 200.
I think it will be sweet, not quite so cruel as nature-
But a force too sttrong to understand, nonetheless.
I don’t think he will always make me happy
but he will mostly try.
I don’t think I will always be his dream come true,
but I will support him.
I don’t think we will have everythign in common
But he’ll be my best friend anyway.
Maybe I won’t tell him all my secrets-
but he’ll guess them, and forget them,
And love me in all my splendour, not blindly.
Maybe i won’t know rom teh first time I hold his hand
That he’s meant to me mine,
or that we will always be happy.
But I think I will always want him laying next to me,
And that migh tbe all I need to know.