He Isn't Him But He's Awful Close His hair isn't nice like the other one's And his mind isn't as bright. But he's always there for me He's like a candle, burning its light. He doesn't play sports as well Or make quick remarks But he runs like I do And can make a fire from a small spark. His grin isn't as crooked And he doesn't think of me invisible. But he's country to core And he makes me a little wishful. The other one and I Won't ever have a chance. But this other one and I Will always be in sync, like a perfected dance.
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