You're So Vain

Do not suppose the one I write is you --

    Not nearly so, of that you can be sure:

Another love, that did what others do

    Gave me this heart which you do but obdure.

Do not pretend that you have filled my soul --

    Not ever that; or not while I'm awake.

Your deepest nectars empty in my bowl,

    the hollow place that drains what love we make.

Do not assume that you the angel are --

    Not clearly so, for all that you have wings:

Your feather touches flying me to star --

    in other love, such ordinary things!

So be the one, but truly not the only.

Whoever thinks it's else, will else be lonely.

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