If you wish to talk to me no longer, I understand
I wasn't prepared when you grabbed my hand
And when you looked at me like that I must confess
I felt and aching and breaking inside my chest

Because I knew and said that I wasn't ready
My head is a mess and my balance unsteady
You were nothing but wonderful near and far
Talking with me till morning in your car

What I felt was honest, what I knew was true
I don't deserve the things you do
Because I know it now than ever more
I'm not ready for you knocking at my door

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please please believe
Even though it's cliché, it's not you, it's me