It wasn't you, it was me.
I shouldn't had left you.
It's just that, things weren't working out.
You know it's true.
I was miserable and unhappy.
I found myself aching to get away.
Your soft whisper still rings in my ears
But I had to go, I could not stay.
I thought I had found a better life with her.
The one of my dreams.
But you know what they say.
Nothing is ever quite as it seems.
The summer ended, I saw her true colours.
She became cold.
Bright fiery colours, rampant, vicious.
An indication of her soul.
Then she became white and soft.
Thats when I missed you.
I had to come home.
This country wasn't for me.
No, not at all.
I don't know how I could've survived life here
When I barely made it through fall.
I hope you forgive me,
Treason, one might say.
But you have to understand.
I just had to get away.
One thing stands out.
One thing is true.
I was the problem.
It was me, not you.