Clarice.

Please allow me tell you about Clarice.

The girl I try to not write all my songs about, though it’s hopeless because she carved herself into my heart and into my mind the first time I met her. The first time I got enthralled with her, the first time I got disgusted with her, the more I began to hate her and then the more I began to understand her.
She always insisted on being called Clarice, like some kind of French model with gorgeous hair and long thin fingers; someone she was definitely not.
I think it was always ever the only way to make herself feel special.
She was so, so wrong.

Everything about her was special, and I’ve known it all along.
I knew what she was thinking but I didn’t try to change her thoughts not once.
I suppose I just sat back and watched how she sunk into more and more sorrow with hundreds of people by her side, watching her fall like I did, but always feeling alone.

Everything about her was special. Was, was, was.
It’s too late now to make her see that, but I’ll never stop trying to change her thoughts.

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Awesome titles by Sting - Inside. : ]