The picture's painted perfect,
the car, the two kids and the house on the hill.
I have everything anyone could ask for,
then why the hell is my heart so ill?
Always a problem and never a fix
with years of books, endless conversations and advice.
I know he loves me and I know I have it good,
but keeping all this shouldn't feel like a sacrafice.
What the hell is so wrong with me that I can't seem to make this work?
Is it so wrong to expect more...
Or am I just bieng a jerk??