Early in the morning, I put breakfast on your table,
And made sure that your coffee has its sugar and cream.
Your eggs are over easy.
Your toast done lightly.
All that's missing is your morning that you used to greet me.
Now you say the juice is sour; it used to be so sweet.
And I can't help but to wonder if you're talking about me.
We don't talk the way we used to talk.
It's hurting so deep.
I've got my pride. I will not cry, but it's making me weep.
I'm not your superwoman.
I'm not the kind of girl that you can let...
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