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 everything

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 a 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

All the wasted, wasted words