Her brain’s too old, her heart too apt to hurt.
She’s nothing but emotion, truth be told.
She feels her feelings tear, and ought to blurt
her brain’s too old.

She looks to blame someone outside, to hold
responsible in words she doesn’t skirt,
a friend’s responses never uttered cold.

Emotional’s okay, but to desert
all reason and indulge in uncontrolled
hysteria just prompts me to assert
her brain’s too old.