The hours I spent thinking of her,
Hoping she’d think of me,
Meant nothing to her. She couldn't see
All that she meant to me.

And she said, “I don’t want to be your girl.
You’re not the boy that makes my heart twirl.”

An evening in March, the day that I chose
To share all my dreams with her—
No moment in time has made me so small
Then when I confessed to her.

With that, my heart, it fell into a minor key,
And all the dreams that she’d be mine eternally,
They fell away from me with seven little words,
And I can only wish that I had never heard that she said,
“I don’t want to be your girl.”