Heaven help me,
I am not really back,
and I can tell by that look
in your eye,
you don't believe that.
I know I hide it well,
but my soul is deep in hell,
and I'm “not even” ready for you.
so cut me some slack,
and get off my back,
and give me my time to grieve.
Go find another Cowboy,
to give you his time,
for I haven't let go,
and in my words
you should know,
how much plainer
can I make it
before you see?
