Male heroin, star in the story of my wife,
I catch her thinking of you every night.
No need to say sorry. I know that you aren't,
But I worry about your drug-like effect on her heart.
I've never seen withdrawal from a drug last so long.
You left her nothing when you left. You used to dose her so strong.
This is it, I sometimes think, when she wakes up at night.
She's cut off for good. He's out of our life.
But that's never it. That's never the case.
Usually, she's kept awake by a taste
In the form of a memory or booze induced dream.
The other day I found words from the song you would sing
Scrawled across a napkin from the cafe where you ate.
She brought me there on our very first date.
The shakes and chills were worse when I met her at first.
Addiction, they say, is one hell of a curse.
Now her hands keep quite still and her skin feels more warm,
But I think it's only the eye of the storm.
My friends say I should leave her if you're still in her head,
But she can still be so kind when she lasts all night in bed.
I think all that keeps her from you, though, is that ring.
It's a relief, but it's a bittersweet thing.
Before I make a decision, I'd like to hear from you.
Man to man, my wife's old love, what should I do?
If you'll have her back, then I suppose I will leave,
But if you don't want her, please disappear. Let us be.