Almost Beautiful

You’re beautiful, almost
A lost and sad reflection
Of another’s ghost
A shadow of a shadow
That’s been haunting me the most
So close, so close
You’re wonderful, nearly
Not quite a picture postcard
Of the way that it should be
A whisper, of a rumour
Of a dying melody
Perfect, but not really
Red are the roses, no doubt
At least until we throw them out
And violets I can do without
Regardless of their hue
Though such things have their place
I know it’s true
But a pillow over the face
Maybe that’s a kind of love too
You’re wonderful, nearly
Not quite a picture postcard
Of the way that it it should be
A whisper, of a rumour
Of a dying melody
Perfect, but not really
You’re beautiful, almost
A lost and sad reflection
Of another’s ghost
A shadow, of a shadow
That’s been haunting me the most
So close, so close
Beautiful, almost…