You whisper into my ear But do I know what to say?
You ask me a question But do I know the answer?
A thousand things I've done And another thousand I've never.

But would you believe me,
Were I to stutter an excuse?
Would you love me still,
Were I to stutter an excuse?

This is not what I aim for,
Yet it must appear so.
Is it truly possible to be this way?

Can I ask you a question for once?
I promise it won't sting much.
Do you feel this way too?

If you only have forever to live?