The Trouble With Subtle

Every now and again When I forget to pretend That I don't want to be more than just your friend I can't help but hate The way that you think She is the woman of your dreams Cause normally it's me Who can't see the forest for the trees But this time it's you, that's been deaf, dumb, and blind Missing every cosmic sign And I've grown weary Which has forced me to pose this query Would it be enough to change your mind If I said this was our place in time So with nothing but hope I penned you this note And if the answer is yes, I'll be at our spot until nine Yet if you say no I promise I'll go However, allowing me to slip through your fingers Is the worst of all zingers Please be wiser than he In Indiana Jones three And my cup, will runneth over thee