The other technicalities of feelings so obscene 
Have roots in animosity and countless other sins. 
We’re setting up our stage so fast, forgetting our lines,
The hatred of whichever kind should never feel so nice. 
We’re not exactly speaking now, we’ve killed all friendly terms. 
I might admit that it’s my fault, but once you’ve done it first. 
And so persists our allyship with harbouring our faults, 
My wretched animosity is stuck between my bones. 
I can’t believe there’s been a day when I called you my friend,
Alas, the times are bound to change, we’re enemies instead. 
So now you look right through my face as if I’m not right here;
I swear, one day I’ll overcome my blinding binds of fear
And tell you, that I know I’m wrong and I apologise
For my disgusting lack of faith, betrayals of my heart, 
All that I’ve lost since wronging you, and my obnoxious love. 
For that, my friend, I swear, one day —
                       I must apologise.