Romantic Fatigue

I have to admit that I am one of the many Who thought that a guitar would win him a lady. My teenage years, they were a feminine drought, And I thought that a serenade would help out. And it seemed to be working for a couple of years – I wrote a few songs and they wrought a few tears. But when I hit my twenties, it ran out of steam. I seemed to be suffering from romantic fatigue. And I never know which song I should play her – Each melody is a memory of a not-forgotten failure. So when I get out my guitar tonight to do what I do, Remember, I probably didn't write this song for you. So as I have mentioned, the shelf-life was short. The scheme wasn't working, despite what I thought. The ladies all left me alone in the end, So I had to switch all the names around and then sing it again. And every life-long love, and every best friend, Slipped away into the past. Take my words with caution – I can't pretend that you're the first, You won't be the last. I never know which song I should play her – Each melody is a memory of a not-forgotten failure. So when I get out my guitar tonight to do what I do, Remember, I probably didn't write this song, No I certainly didn't write this song, No I never, never wrote a song for you.