Every other time he said those words
He meant everything that he had said
So why this time, in the same setting
Should I give him any benefit of doubt
And like every time before it burns
He means what he means and will
Til he is dead and cold in the ground
Every one creates their own hell
But when I hear the sound, of his voice
As I break from this prison cell
So I'll smile but refuse to listen
To any more of the shit he says
I am tired and can't go on
Every time he tells me
I am ready to let it end
For good, or ill, I am done
Let the past be gone
Find some clarity in flame
For right or for wrong
It has gone on too long
Let the past burn
The time is long past ready
