• It’s not that I choose to destroy
    That which only brings me joy,
    Or tear asunder, with words or deeds
    Those are things I avoid
    Yet, always seem to feed

    But he can’t possibly believe,
    He cannot believe in me

    Every fault is named, and all are mine
    Though I would take them back, in time
    Of course, those fates are never true
    He can plainly see the signs
    In all the damage I do

    But he can’t possibly know,
    He cannot know the more I show

    I won’t allow the mind to fret
    Over such sorrows, just yet
    A pall over the bad and the good,
    Enflame in fires I watch myself set
    Only because I could

    But he can’t possibly wait,
    He cannot wait – it’s too late

    If control was not so dearly bought,
    Many a man, it would have sought
    Before the damage irrevocably done,
    That’s what this empty embrace has taught
    Pain I bring, even if he’s the only one

    But he can’t possibly harm,
    More, than my well-intentioned arms