What Will Be Will Be
Alright fellas, let’s make a start
To the story of this broken heart
Anger, jealousy, guilt and pain
Everything to lose, and nothing to gain
Her sexy coy look, her sweet lying eyes
Ears too wet to discern her dark little lies
Naivety, gullibility, candy from a three year old
She fans the flames, then puts it out cold
She stares; just make a move if you dare
She touches your hand and – ooh all over, but she don’t care
Are you serious? Aw don’t act surprised
Either you do it or you don’t, what’s compromise?
Oh you wanna play the game, try to be slick
She sees through you from miles away you stupid prick!
What will be will be, but can’t you see?
She’s desperate for sex, not philosophy
So fella (yo) what’s it gonna be?
The land of your birth, or some foreign sea?
Go on, keep it in; pretend you’re in control
Acting oh so cool during the big show
Where’s the anger, frustration, helplessness and rage
That you stubbornly refuse to display on life’s stage
Let it eat you up then, yeah let it rule
No chick’s gonna love a phoney, you fool
