Sorry.
You say you're sorry
But it doesn't change
The way that things have been.
Sorry's just a word.
And words themselves are wind.
Your promises
And careless whispers
Made me feel like I was just your mistress,
When what you want me to believe
Is that I was the love of your life.
These are just more empty words
And words, they are a knife.
You're trying hard to reconcile
Your empty gestures
With what you feel inside.
You're on the platform
But you've missed the train.
Your words come too late.
They are spoken in vain.
You say you truly want to make amends.
There's sincerity in your voice
And that's just as well.
And words can now begin to repair
The bridge that takes us to a place where
You and I can florish in.
It all begins with a few simple words:
Words are a balm.
They are nourishing.
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