I wish I knew the words that I wanted to say.
I wish that everything would've just turned out okay.
I wish that you didn't hurt every single day.
I wish I knew how to say this a better way.
But words are fleeting like the ashes in their respective tray.
For that reason it feels like every word I speak is gray.
So what I ask is that you just try to stay.
For the story moves like the waters in the San Francisco Bay.
