I missed a chance with Monica, I fear
to touch her hand, to kiss, to hold her near
I wonder why I let myself be weak?
I still remember dancing cheek to cheek.
She drove me home, but home was empty, dark
and Monica had eyes that held a spark
And now I think of Monica and me
and tell myself that what will be, will be.
I’m just a fool who should have felt her skin
her warmth, her comfort, comfortably within
I heard her voice today, she sounded well
I wonder if she knows, or can she tell
that I believe my chance is not yet dead
and I would love to be with her in bed.