Right here, in this place,
I will see the things I have to face,
Signing off my lungs to breath deep,
With pen in hand my thoughts will seep,
Forgetting that a cloud will take what I made,
Facing the feeling I feel under the shade.

Is it too late to say that I'd walk you home on a late autumn night,
When the moon is the only light,
Hand in yours so you don't feel so afraid,
Maybe sing you things I made.

Regret crosses my mind,
You're so far yet so near and I can't rewind,
Can't see if there's another way,
I'm just so afraid of what you'll say.

Walk up to your porch and hug you goodbye,
The words at my tongue seem to multiply,
I just want to be truthful but I can't with you here,
I can't let you overhear.

Laying in the warmth of my bed,
Imagining these images with dread,
Am I bad for feeling so down about nothing?