You brushed your hair from your face,
As you sipped your sweet, honey tea.
Insisting that it was good for your vocals,
Hoping that maybe, you'd end up like me.
A sweet and sour disaster,
Of what had happened a long time ago,
Sticks in my brain, and stains the cracks,
Because once upon a time, I didn't know.
If only you'd told me you'd loved me.
Maybe then I would've stayed.
If I'd had known that someone cared. . .
I wouldn't have so deeply prayed.