I left a message on your floor.
Still eight months since you've called.
Awake at night I think to myself,
Put it to bed so I can rest.
It's getting hard to feel sorry for you.
I think your playing a victim.
It's not abandonment when I get pushed away.
Your track record has it's history of
repeating habit through apologies.
And I've been running my track for far too long.
I can't jump back in with the drop of a dime,
I'm not ready yet, I'm not ready yet.
What are the odds that we'll ever see eye to eye?
I'm not ready yet, I'm not ready yet.
We're only getting older so we'll run out of time
to put things in perspective.
You think you're perfect, you wait and see...
This life is hard and it's brutal.
I did the best I could for what I had.
(??), it's been bound and cuffed.
I'm just trying to guide you.
Is it not enough for myself and my lack of mind?
I see the boy in your arms, I see the tables turn.
I feel myself in your shoes, I feel there's something I've learned.
I can't jump back in with the drop of a dime,
I'm not ready yet, I'm not ready yet.
What are the odds that we'll ever see eye to eye?
I'm not ready yet, still not ready yet.
We're only getting older so we'll run out of time
to put things in perspective.