Oh, how fickle is a woman
Who never knows what she desires!
The love she gives in some moments
In other times makes her a liar.

She thinks with changing emotions,
But then wonders why I’m leery
Of opening myself to her,
Since she can’t see that I’m weary

Of playing what she has made games,
Not treating love seriously.
And the irony of it all
Is she thinks the fickle one is me.