I’m sorry

I don't want this dying body I've inherited
I don't want my world revolving around you
And everything I ever said well I meant it
Everything I ever said wasn't true

Sorry

(Instrumental)

I don't want this dying body I've inherited
And I don't want my world revolving around you no more
Everything I ever sang well I meant it
Even if none of this bullshit was true

Sorry

(Instrumental)

I'm sick of waking up at eight
With a fear you're waiting at my doorstep (doorstep)

I'm sick of waking up to shaky hands
And a constant fear that you're dead (that you're dead)

Next time I'll give a bit more thought
Then repeat what I just said