Which b**** to love above all others

Today she seems so perfect,
Tomorrow my nerves grate thin,
A thought or two,
We never knew,
The next day I'd turn her in.

Memories of others who came before,
Their images age like wine,
A thought or two,
We never knew,
Our paths might intertwine.

The grass is greener every day,
This side it dies with age,
A thought or two,
We never knew,
That love would end with rage.

Memories of others who came before,
Their images age like wine,
A thought or two,
We never knew,
Our paths might intertwine.