It’s been 36 hours and eleven days

Since the last time, I heard you say you were sorry

It won’t happen again

You rub my back to cross my shame

As you cut me down with the words you say

Then you are sorry

It won’t happen again

From bruises to bouquets, a brand-new dress

Diminished becomes my confidence 

A kiss that's sweet your love I crave

along for you to when they change and be sorry. So it won’t happen again

Lower and lower your conscience grows them, while higher and higher this pain within then you’re sorry it won’t happen again

From bruises to bouquets, a brand-new dress

Diminished becomes my confidence