For Sunday
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For 17 years I've let this go, I've let this go
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No one cares now, not even I now,
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that this familiar place has never once felt like home
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So when you think that you have the right to say,
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why doesn't your heart burn like ours?
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I'll let the ashes go, this wound you can't replace
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No one including you cared to comfort the flame
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Because you can't see me,
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so don't pretend like I owe it to you, like you saved me
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It's not of your hands
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I owe nothing to you
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You never reached out when I needed anyone
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But when voices sing and lift to promises that I've never seen,
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then and only then do I truly feel home in this hope
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So befriend me and smile to my face, I swear I'm lying this time
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I've never been so far away when these regrets are worthless to me
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And God why do I blame them?
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I'm begging you to forgive me
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But when voices sing and lift to promises that I've never seen,
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then and only then do I feel home in a hope that will embrace the sky
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For Sunday
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| Name Taken |
