I'll ask you to meet me by the riverside,
Perhaps in a certain park, next to a certain knotted oak.
I'll make you promise not to say a single word,
During or after my pretentious speech,
Explaining the thoughts you so often pried for,
Of why I was so difficult to love,
And why I was never able accept your affections.
I'll wait for you by a certain knotted oak,
Closing my eyes,
Carried in the luke warm breeze,
Calling to memory the countless nights that I became angry with you,
As you would not leave my mind,
And every wrong mistake of mine,
Became a wave, pulling me under the tide.