I am a mess,
I am a mess;
Loving you is causing me to test boundaries of my mental unrest.
And though leaving may be for the best,
you have that which beats inside my chest.
But I am a mess,
I am a mess;
I fear one day you will confess that those other girls just make me less;
that it's their skin you wish to caress;
that when they offered, you said yes.
I am such a mess,
I am such a mess;
Such thoughts cause me such distress,
I wonder if this is for the best;
then I recall how I've been blessed:
to have that which beats inside your chest;
to be the one you chose above the rest.
Still, I am a mess,
I am a mess.