I’m sorry
I let you get away before you heard me say
I didn’t mean a word I said especially that I want you dead
I’m sorry
We sat on that picnic bench and drank til we started to fence
We used words instead of swords and I don’t know who got the award
But I’m sorry
I’m a sorry son of a bitch but nothing I say seems to make you flinch
I’d get down on my knees and say, pretty, pretty please!
I’m on my window ledge eight stories down I’d be hard to catch
A crowd gathers for the hunt and I swear I heard you scream, jump!
You’ll be sorry
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