You're the agreeable type.
I know you like me
but that's just because you like everybody else.
You're just a nice person.
You want to give everyone a chance.
But if you try to be best friends with everyone,
you won't really know anyone.
You've eased me into a meltdown
smiled me into an addictive disappointment.
I just feel sorry for you-
one to the next you're never alone
and never yourself.
I wish you could come out of that;
then you'd be real.
I'm holding out my hand.