Time after time
Minute after minute
Why? Why do I let you do this to me?
You say you're sorry
I don't believe it
Come home drunk
Cloths the smell of a cheap whores perfume.
And you look at me with those coal eyes of yours and you say "I'm sorry I won't do it again."
And I don't believe it.
And so I pack my bags
You keep saying those words. "I'm sorry I won't do it anymore!"
I am done packing so I start to leave.
But you grab hold of my sleeve.
You pull me into your strong arms, tears falling in rivers down your face.
You apologies
Over and over
Time after time
Why do I let you do this to me?
I crumble, like cookies fresh baked
I agree to let you stay.
With a broken voice I tell you to take a shower.
You reek of a cheap whore's perfume
