Из альбома: Western Medicine
I'm sorry
I let you get away before you heard me say
I didn't mean a word I said especially that I want you dead
I'm sorry
We sat on that picnic bench and drank til we started to fence
We used words instead of swords and I don't know who got the award
But I'm sorry
I'm a sorry son of a bitch but nothing I say seems to make you flinch
I'd get down on my knees and say, "Pretty, pretty please!"
I'm on my window ledge eight stories down I'd be hard to catch
a crowd gathers for the hunt and I swear I heard you scream, "Jump!"
You'll be sorry