Competing Bouquets

How many times have I told myself I'm not ready for love? I tried it as a child And failed as a man. Time slips away To discover anyone I would care to convince She ought to stay. I'll just wind down my days Sipping coffee In some remote café And try to flirt with a waitress: If she calls my hand, I'll say I didn't mean it. I don't have the heart anymore To enter into a heated explanation with a woman For something I said or might have done, I just don't have it in me any longer To be jealous of anyone When his bouquet is greater than mine.