It isn't the way that you look at my lips
when I talk
or how you can fit your hand into
the small of my back
when you stand next to me
or how your girlfriend takes you to church
with her every Sunday
whose parents do not trust you
and I couldn't see why
The Beatles made me want to kiss you
when you drove me home
but now I don't think I can listen
when you say I make the dress I wear 
look beautiful
because you've said it to too many
other girls that aren't me
and I've changed my mind about
the passion I thought you had
in your eyes
because it's not passion

if it's not real.