There's not much to do
except take a curse
and make it better
I'll get better
Be a trend setter
and keep my word
to the letter
I keep hurting myself
Forsaking what's sure
in favour of
bad inner chatter
I want to be kind
Swearing or blessing
I'm choosing the latter
My tongue is a rudder
Steers the body
like a ship
I haven't forgotten her
If my words will be pure
then my blessing is sure
In saying what's good
I'm finding a cure