Wasted Words

There are days when sorrow seems never-ending Like the countless roads upon which I've driven The price of attachment in pursuit of dreams That I so often can't seem to remember Yet there are days when beauty cannot be contained It even crawls out from under ordinary things A foreigner, no place to go Holding on, making the most Of what little time I have All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret I will not leave wishing I had done things differently The moments I treasure Are seldom the ones that I planned for And if I knew where pain hid I might still let it go So when the audience has run toward the latest drift It will be my time to face the life that I have set A foreigner in my own home Holding on, no place to go All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret, regret All the wasted words Some days the line between peace and pain Seems more like blur But I know with certainty I can't leave wishing I cannot leave I can't leave wishing I'd done things differently All the wasted words I said In all the cities that I left The last act of our precious play Must not close with regret, regret All the wasted, wasted words