The Happy Fool

(Martha Sharp)



See the happy fool walking with the girl

That once belonged to me

I guess he hasn't heard her heart is like a bird

And very soon she'll fly all free

There in his face I see a trace of the old me

And how that fool I used be.



My friends made sure I knew that she had been untrue

And what a fool she'd made of me

I should thank them all I know they were kind enough to show

All her false I couldn't see

I let her go but still I hold the memory

Of a fool I used be...