We share the same old joke
She's my sister
We get rowdy, have a good time
She is my friend
But lately, Mary, lately
I find it so hard to pretend

I hate old clichés
I love you
There must be better words
You mean much more
And I can't help admitting
Things feel different than they felt
Before

What can I say?
What can I say?
Open my mouth and change feet
And even the song that I'm writing will never be complete...