that God once gave you everything you asked,

that you held happiness with both your hands,

but you just shook your head and turned your back?

How do you live through the day after that?

How do you watch the days turn into years?

And what about the day you understand

driving out love did not drive out your fears?

I guess you could call it a tragedy,

but I think there's another way to say it:

after all, happiness lay at your feet.

The only thing you had to do was take it.

If what I want is ever in my grasp,

I promise that it won't slip through my hands.