Among the summertime Sundays 
I’ve grown tired of shame and remorse
And took down my walls.
All the passers-by wondered
Why I would choose to demolish
My own stronghold.
Was I crazy
To strive for things
That don’t hold much worth?
One day someone will ask you for the best of your stories of love and loss;
You will find yourself speechless among meaningless pictures on your walls.
Yeah, I’d rather
Be free than safe, 
Push through and have no regrets.
And now I’m
Out to misbehave,
Out to forgive and forget.
I could walk around this house, stand in its dusty corners, smile at all our old memories and slowly [bad word] 
I could tell you little stories and hope for a better tomorrow that would [bad word]