It feels like we’ve done it fine
but still it feels like we’re taking that road again
Maybe, I wasn’t really a part of you
Mercy, might be as I comprehend every letters on the paper
I mustn’t blame you for that
I’m sorry for caring about you.
I’m just trying hard for ours to get back
but I seems like everything is just making it worse.
Your voice is too expensive that you really keep it.
That silence rings on my ears intensely
but I just can’t help myself but to care about you.
I know that sorry was trashed, so 3 years.
Waiting for us to speak again
I’ll just reminisce the papers we’ve shared.
Trying hard to find a place inside you
because you’ve scattered our moments,
maybe that has never reach you.
Hoping for coming back
Thoughts of yours