what was i really thinking when i slammed the door

I know all I need is on the other side of the door with your face, and your beautiful eyes, and the conversation with the little white lies and the faded picture of a beautiful night you carry me from your car, up the stairs and I'm broke-down cryin', "Was she worth this mess?", after everything in that little black dress, after everything, I must confess, I need you.

i feel so guilty when i'm not the one at fault.

i wish this could all stop and rewind.

it's you and your other friend(s), not me or we.