Your words are etched into my soul and scorched into my skin. Now I pay the price of the worded burden.
Like the Scarlet Letter, your sin is on me for the world to know and all of heaven to see.
My only crime was trusting you in your mouth you held he torch breathing out your lies of a white-picket and porch.
But no broken heart am I You merely clipped my wings with your name scratched into my bones I can, again, stand to sing