Losing your lover, is like losing black socks
They always end up in someone else's bedroom
Losing black hair ties, is like losing black socks
They always end up in someone else's head space
I thought I would come and see you
But when I opened my drawer
My black socks were unmatching
And my hair was dry as straw
I thought about wearing my hair out
And wearing no shoes
But it all reminded me of...