You think that he loved you,
I think you're mistaken.
Your memories floating,
in a rose-colored fog,

You think that it's over,
It's your heart he's taken.
I think that he's gloating,
I'm saying, you're wrong.

You think who you have now,
is lying and cocky,
just because the last one,
chose distance and pride,

I think that you allow;
your fear does the talking.
Just let go, and listen,
to whispers inside.

I think it's not over.
You know that you're wrong.
You write here, telling me,
Your love's not yet gone.