Seven times I traced your number Just one finger to your voice Seven times I put the receiver down Seven times I tried to write you But I cannot make your choice Your lips they move, But they make no sound And what the cost What the price I'm the brunt of friends' advice Don't look up till you feel the ground . . . I'm letting go 'cause holdin' on is killing me My timing can be criminally slow Too little too late Criminally slow Seven times I asked forgiveness Seven times I'll wait you out Seasons will change before words come round And in my search for reasons I will wash away the doubt That came wrapped inside a wedding gown And what the price What the cost Is this the poetry of loss The past we build is all torn down? I'm letting go 'cause holdin' on is killing me My timing can be criminally slow Is it never too late? Criminally slow