The minutes turn into hours,
And the hours turn into days;
But you swear he’ll come home to you,
That it’s only a phase.
A push turns into a shove,
And a shove turns into a fist;
But you swear he just had a bad day,
So there’s no need to resist.
The truth turns into a lie,
And the lie turns into deceit;
But you swear his intentions are good,
And so he just repeats, repeats, repeats.
A tear turns into a river,
And a river turns into an ocean;
But you swear he’s the right man for you,
So you disregard your emotions.
2011 Vincent Cuccolo
