IT'S SO UNFAIR

It's so unfair how obsessively you adore her
while taking me for granted.
How hard I've tried to be your ideal:
Juliet to your Romeo, so passionately
I should have won an Oscar...
whilst she can pick you up or drop you
however and whenever the fancy takes her -
yet she's the only one you dote on.

It's so unfair that I have learnt to parachute jump
and mountain climb - in spite of a horror of heights -
solely to impress you. But you've failed to notice...
when all she has to do is lie on the beach
and cultivate a tan to earn your admiration.
And I've practised so hard to become
a nineteen-fifties Bardot - your ultimate fantasy -
and tried to act as sexily. But did you respond?
No way! I might as well have been invisible...
yet she can pass by unmade-up
and tatty as a tramp, and your eyes are out on stalks.

It's so unfair how I'm always extremely careful
never to sulk nor rant and rave
when you cancel a date I've spent hours preparing for,
but just smile and say, "That's OK. Maybe another time."
Yet she can throw her tantrums
and you'll jump to her tune every time.
What she wants is all that matters.

It's so unfair how I can read your thoughts
almost before you think them, and
adapt my words to harmonise with your moods...
whilst she is arrogantly dictatorial.
So how come you hang onto her every word?

Oh it really is so unfair that it's so unfair,
and even if I could stop loving you
it would still be unfair
that I am me and not her
and never could be
that perfect.

It tragically is so unfair. So, so,
so incredibly, frustratingly, painfully,
cruelly unfair.