I'd rather not admit it,
No, I'd rather not admit it.
I'd rather not admit it, that I have yet to quit it;
Or that you still seem to plague my mind with words and images,
And that when I sit in the same spot that, for the first time, we held hands,
I can feel liquid as it swells up in my uncontrollable tear glands.

I'd rather not admit it,
No, I'd rather not admit it.
I miss you and I think about you everyday since I was forced to quit it;
Yes, I'd rather not admit it,
No, I'd rather not admit it.

I remember all the moments,
And all our beautiful components,
Which we used to patch together,
Perfect love within bad weather;
It felt perfect for awhile,
And then you put our love on trial,
And it ended in a second,
Yet you came back on that same weekend,
Saying things were now to change,
And we were to rearrange,
What it meant to be in love;
But you left me with the glove,
And decided to tear off the one you had.

It ended once again,
And 2 days later you did bring,
Your heart right back to me,
And believed that I could see,
You'd done no wrong.

You promised you had changed,
And that you would rearrange,
All your action in our love,
Yet once again you tossed that glove,
And left it all alone, to myself.

I sacrificed and compromised,
Believing you were doing right,
Yet you sat there in stagnant indifference;
I knew, inside, what that did reference.

Hurting, deeply insecure,
I broke it off, as you had lured,
Our love away from being repaired;
Retreated back to your single lair.

Sick and tired, upset and lost,
I knew my ending it would cost,
The girl I love with all my heart;
The one who'd loved me at the start,
And still did in the same way,
Yet she wished to get away.

My heart was broken,
And every time I breathed,
I felt my chest expand in pain,
My solar plexus bounced away,
In memory, and thought fighting tears;
You switched me out of silent gears.

I'd rather not admit it,
No, I'd rather not admit it.
I'd rather not admit it, that I have yet to quit it;
Or that you still seem to plague my mind with words and images,
And that when I sit in the same spot that, for the first time, we held hands,
I can feel liquid as it swells up in my uncontrollable tear glands.

Because, I'd rather not admit it,
No.
I'd rather not admit it.