I used to have hope, devotions ran deep,

would have given everything for you to keep.

Like clay in your hands, I could have been whatever

you wanted of me, but the answer seems "never".

Could have taken a bullet for you in a heartbeat,

and perhaps I still would, but this feeling must forfeit.

I'll get over you, I have my pride,

I'll look away, to the other side.

I've been acting like someone I don't know

irresponsible, weak, soft like dough;

I'm taking my life back in my hands,

I won't be controlled by my heart's demands.

A chemical cocktail I was drunk on,

it's time to get sober, the party is gone;

and as the night turns into dawn,

you will fade too: brown into fawn.

Chestnut into sand, for the wind to drive away,

time heals all wounds, only memories will stay.

And I'm not sorry, darling, for the poems that I wrote,

but I'm moving on, I have found an antidote.