• The guilt comes and goes
    Whenever I read a letter you wrote
    Or a word you spoke
    Nobody seems to know
    How much I really do care
    Sometimes it's gone
    When I remember the things
    I hated about you
    But, dear, I still miss the scent of your hair
    I lied
    I think we've boh processed that now
    Whenever there were words that needed to be said
    My tounge appeared to be tied
    When I said "I love you" I didn't mean it
    At least not in the way you thought
    I care about you, but I don't want to kiss you
    No matter how great your "wit"