Hate to find out after living a life with no regrets, that there is.
Only to find I was a fool for my own demise.
You were there, there the last time I was on a knee crying out for mercy, oh mercy me.
Yes I was a fool for the games of the weak hearted.
One can only wish that under the stars of tonite, you'll be sleeping in the arms that which are stronger than my own.
With lost love's remorse, they weep for the empty glass.. For the empty leap's of faith.
And I find funny these can't be my words, cause I'd never have the nerve to speak 'em.