How blind do I seem to be,
When you’re coming home late.
High on the stars,
from some other girl’s perfume.
Lipstick stains on your shirt.
You say I’m your only,
while you’re calling her “baby.”
Like I don’t see the made calls,
the photos you forget to hide,
and the messages that reveal your love.
Don’t play dumb with me
when I ask where you’ve been.
“Late night with some friends”
just doesn’t cut it anymore.
Just tell me you were with her.
I would have found out anyway.
You were just too careless to see
all the mistakes you were making.
Like sleeping with her
and cheating on me.
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