Like a twig snapped in the wood, I crossed a line I never should, I forgot myself and tarnished good, I must confess it, you tell me it was for the better, and not to stress it. But how might I forgive my tongue, the traitor to the song I sung! Betrayed my topmost moral rung, and left it broken. Though you forgive it remains with me, a painful token. Harsher words I have not uttered, not to a friend I've ever muttered, to anyone my heart had fluttered, words so frigid, cold as steel cast as a sword, sharp and rigid... If I had my druthers surely, I would change that day so purely, smite me down in ugly fury, undo the knot, the tangled strings of twisted fate, unstir the pot...