So I saw a guy on my coach back up from London who looked like my Dad. And I swear he looked at me, like, *really* looked at me, like he knew me too. He looked older, like he might look now. You see, my dad's out in the world somewhere and he doesn't know me. He's alive, living with his timid little Elvis loving girlfriend, and I wonder if he thinks about me?
I destroyed his life, and I'm sorry. I don't hate him, at all, I just had to do what I had to do. Sometimes I think about what it must have looked like, when the police dragged him out of where he works, in front of his colleagues and friends. Did he think about me? Worry where I was? ... think it was me at first, or did he disbelieve until they told him? His shy little girlfriend called me crying, pleading to stop what I was doing, and said he loved me, and I said 'I know'. I was glad he had her, everyone needs someone.
I wonder if he loved me? I was Bonny to his Clyde. I was his co conspirator, his protector, the girl in his heart. I protected him until I couldn't anymore. That's when I sold him out and they dragged him away.
Then he lied about me to save his own skin, and when he finally was cornered, he told the truth, and said he was lying, to save me. It's hard to know that the person you were closest to could betray you to such an extent. Then again, I turned around and did the same to him eventually. Fair game, right? I wonder if he's proud of the daughter he raised? He did always tell me I could do anything.
I think people look at these blue eyes and dimples and assume me cute and simple, but I'm far from that. I can be yours, I'll get close to you, all lightness and sweet, the trick is to give more than a little, make people think they've got you- I'm dangerous to know, really. I've learnt from the best, and my dad was quite a teacher. Handsome, blue eyes, all charm, he could put you around his little finger.
It scares me, it really does, what I'm capable of doing to people I care about.
I destroyed his life, and I'm sorry. I don't hate him, at all, I just had to do what I had to do. Sometimes I think about what it must have looked like, when the police dragged him out of where he works, in front of his colleagues and friends. Did he think about me? Worry where I was? ... think it was me at first, or did he disbelieve until they told him? His shy little girlfriend called me crying, pleading to stop what I was doing, and said he loved me, and I said 'I know'. I was glad he had her, everyone needs someone.
I wonder if he loved me? I was Bonny to his Clyde. I was his co conspirator, his protector, the girl in his heart. I protected him until I couldn't anymore. That's when I sold him out and they dragged him away.
Then he lied about me to save his own skin, and when he finally was cornered, he told the truth, and said he was lying, to save me. It's hard to know that the person you were closest to could betray you to such an extent. Then again, I turned around and did the same to him eventually. Fair game, right? I wonder if he's proud of the daughter he raised? He did always tell me I could do anything.
I think people look at these blue eyes and dimples and assume me cute and simple, but I'm far from that. I can be yours, I'll get close to you, all lightness and sweet, the trick is to give more than a little, make people think they've got you- I'm dangerous to know, really. I've learnt from the best, and my dad was quite a teacher. Handsome, blue eyes, all charm, he could put you around his little finger.
It scares me, it really does, what I'm capable of doing to people I care about.