You took my compassion and warped it.
Yeah, you bent it.
Broke it out of recognition.

Left it crumbling on back seats.
Oh, in crutches.
Rotting on top of church benches.

You don't even have to know.

I told you I'd never be angry.
I'm not angry.
Just a bit infuriated.

You tell me that I never listen.
God, I listen.
You're just talking circles around me.

You never say you're sorry.
Sorry I'm not sorry.
You never had to say "I told you so"

You don't even have to know.
No, you don't know.
You don't have to, I told you so.

You don't know.