I saw a pretty face

That convinced me

There would be more

Another story

He dressed so well

So my type

He was quite mysterious

His hands were nice

Oh he was in a band

He was lead singer

Then after a month

My light bringer

I couldn’t help but fall

For such an awkward smirk

He was quite cool

With a drink full of mirth

What a pretty face

Was his dad that handsome

He had to be for sure

To have such a son

Then I came to wonder

Was it mystery or silence

Then not a conversation flowed

No chemistry, no science

It died when I saw the rips

In those jeans made to look old

Was anything authentic

Anything at all

And sure he was pretty

But that began to fade

Nothing interesting to tell

No fun story to say

A copy and paste

Of all his band mates

Would I find him again

I saw another every day

Yes a pretty face

A boy with lovely hands

But what’s a pretty face

Upon a boring man

He couldn’t bring me to laughter

He couldn’t bring me to tears

And for just a pretty face

I wouldn’t waste the years