.It's never enough or it's always too much.

It's never enough.
Or it's always too much.
Oh hell , it's ever 'tuff.
This loving stuff.

He couldn't come home,
or pick up a phone
or be bothered to sleep in the same bed as me some nights.
He was rude and said no mushy things,
and got mad when I pouted when we couldn't be alone.
He was never enough.
He was never enough.

Then there's another one ,
who's just plain dumb,
he calls me four times a day and doesn't understand
"I have to go".
He says one too many mushy things,
and gets pouty and sullen when I want to be alone.
He was just too much.
He was just too much.