I sit awaiting him but thy skin withers thy soul shivers It has to endure the cold cruel world waiting for him falling for all the wrong men but just mere past times mere preperations for the one who will save me yet each time I let another touch I realize he wasn't the one he wasn't you dear soul mate and therefore my heart has to endure and as I wait my hope gets sliced and diced I pray each day as my skin begins to wither that when you find me you won't gallop right on by because all you'll see is a bitter old woman who bleed all her beauty waiting for the one