Irony of the cruelest kind
I sign my name on the dotted line
That would be the last of the last times
You would speak to me
A month goes by, and you've found the one
I guess I'll be just the preparation
I wish I'd met you at a different time
Maybe things would be different
It coulda been us
That coulda been me
Was it timing took you from my arms?
Or was it destiny?
I see your photograph
And I start to think
I coulda been him, but you'd probably know then he isn't me
Suppose you'll be the one that got away
Everybody's got one, or so they say
You best believe I'd done it a different way
If I could go back
I tried to be him and I'm wonderin' why you wouldn't let me
