I'm The Yul Brynner of women.
You're the Grace Kelly of men.
I search every room for other shrewd eyes.
You leave moonlight wherever you've been.
The problem for me:
I'm so alone I'm not sure I'm even alive
and like it or lump it
two tears in a bucket
you're a king bee in the human hive.
I wish I was Yul Brynner
riding horizons alone like a king.
I wish I could get ahold of myself
and make your telephone ring.
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