Free-form fraud.

So is this how it will be,

A few pointed statements intermitantly?

We can try this again in one week (like we always do)

Is this as bad for you as it is for me? (I'll set this one off for you)

But I know you don't need to hear this,

Not from me after that open-eyed kiss.

I mean you tried everything you could, right?

It's not like you gave in without a thought or fight.

So I guess it's natural to turn pain into spite,

And leave me like you left me on that crisp fall night.

But I know you don't need to hear this,

Not from me, not after that last miss.

But today that bright red genie

In the bottle of AP whiskey

Owes me three last wishes

Or the peace of mind for stitches.

Kuz god knows just how poor

I am not to afford more

No peace of mind or a sack of beam

And my last wish is not to dream.

But I know you don't need to hear this,

Not from me after that wide-eyed kiss.

I'm sorry to say I didn't forget

To say I'm sorry; I meant it.

And you know me well enough to know this,

You, Genie, owe me enough to own this:

The hardest thing for me to say or do,

Is to admit that I was wrong, and to ask: were you?