Seven times I traced your number

Just one finger to your voice

Seven times I put the receiver down

Seven times I tried to write you

But I cannot make your choice

Your lips they move,

But they make no sound





And what the cost

What the price

I'm the brunt of friends' advice

Don't look up till you feel the ground . . .





I'm letting go 'cause holdin' on is killing me

My timing can be criminally slow

Too little too late

Criminally slow





Seven times I asked forgiveness

Seven times I'll wait you out

Seasons will change before words come round

And in my search for reasons

I will wash away the doubt

That came wrapped inside a wedding gown





And what the price

What the cost

Is this the poetry of loss

The past we build is all torn down?





I'm letting go 'cause holdin' on is killing me

My timing can be criminally slow

Is it never too late?

Criminally slow