This is not a song she writes,
To vent her anger or her fear,
From the words you lock and never say,
And she will never hear.
For if she's ever promised you,
She's promised all of her and more.
And though you may have said the same,
You don't say it like before.

The wedding vow so sacred then, the two of them they thought could mend,
The wounds and scars their life has dealt, another notch within their belts.

Another open wound that bleeds,
With scarring tissue they so hide,
All they're taught they still don't heed,
Along mistakes they still deny.

They try to blame it on their world,
That's turned so cold and so unkind.
Have they become so wrought, unfurled,
To grow so selfish and so blind?
Still denying blame and fault is theirs,
They know it's only yours and hers.