Every morning, the first thing [A] does when [A]'s eyes are half-opened and [A] is still in blurred condition, is to text [B], because that's when [A]'s mind is the most honest - too blurred to make up any disguise - the frank message that [A] typed is the one [A] hope [B] will receive.
Every night, the last thing [A] does when [A]'s eyes are half-closed and [A] is already in drained condition, is to text [B], because that's when [A]'s mind is the most honest - too drained to make up any disguise - the frank message that [A] typed is the one [A] hope [B] will receive.
No means of apology could be used For the hurt I put in your soul I know it's my fault For making your heart disputes I tried to mark a distance Yet things didn't get too good I don't know what it was Until you left me for good Still I want to make it whole Shall we get a hold?