This my thoughts I jotted down and tried to make sense...
| There she sits with her back to me|
'Bout to break out of her reverie
So caught up in all that she feels
She forgets I' m around, around for real.
Look how she prattles, guffaws in glee
And soon she 'll give in to melancholy
She 'll fret and mourn invariably
But no she won' t, won' t turn to me.
She takes delight in life' s panorama
She' s not one to mellow the drama
Lost in her world of make - believe
Yet I' m the first, the first she' ll leave.
She latches on to all that appeals
Announces her likes in joyful peals
When it' s no longer there for the taking
It' s me who mends, mends the aching.
And there she stands now facing me
Without me, she knows, she' s all but free
Still she' ll go on with this fiddle-dee-dee
Coz the woman in the mirror mirrors me.