There's Something About Mary

Your saving grace Your princess Your happily ever after

You'll miss my pretty eyes, My almost full lips, my unruly hair My touch, my head on your chest Waking up beside me

You'll miss our talks, With our morning coffee Making our breakfast As you play the ukulele

You'll miss my voice It's not good but not bad either Teaching me the basics of music On stringed instruments

You'll miss my weight on your motorcycle As we glide along the highway Going to different places Or just to where we hang out

You'll miss my art Especially my first mural You'll see it and you'll remember Me saying, “Don't touch it. It's mine.”

You'll miss giving those little facts To me, the attentive listener Who doesn't have any clue about nutrition The stuff you get from food, whatever you call that

You'll miss my plain-ness My sad little face that agrees with anything My quietness unless intoxicated My headaches afterwards

You'll miss me on Christmas When we cooked spaghetti and spent the night singing Somehow getting into an accident Making it out with just minor scratches

You'll miss my kindness I don't know what you meant When you described me as such But I'm sure you'll miss that too