It’ll be OK she said as she was leaving
I’m not sure how she knew
I kept thinking about her since then
Until the day I met you

And it turns out that exactly
OK is how I was
Reminding myself daily
“It could be worse I suppose.”

Being OK gets tiring
Because one can’t really complain
OK is like a gorgeous dress
Tainted with a little stain

Your glass is neither full nor empty
It’s somewhere in between
OK is not being invisible
But also not really seen

I guess I’m used to it now
Just wondering where it goes from here
If I can’t be found
Shall I just disappear?

She said it’ll be OK
And now you’re saying it too
It’ll be what it’ll be
Until I meet someone new

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