[Verse 1] It started over something small, so small I can't recall it all. I only know the scale went wrong: your hurt came hard, arrived too strong. I stood there trying to understand how nothing turned to reprimand. Then, when the argument was spent, I wound up sorry for what you meant. [Pre-Chorus] You cried. I bent. That's how the lesson went. [Chorus] The first apology was your turn, but somehow I was made to learn that if you hurt me and I spoke, your pain became the larger note. I said, “I'm sorry.” You calmed enough that something in me called it love. [Verse 2] Next time came easier for us both. You knew the route; I knew my role. You struck the match, I named the flame as something I had done again. And every time I took the blame, the argument forgot my claim. Your anger ended when I agreed that what you did was caused by me. [Bridge] I thought an apology meant I had been kind enough to bend. I didn't see the stranger art: how blame can travel from its start. A year in, I could hurt and still comfort you for what you did. You called that love. I called it peace. Neither name gave me release. [Chorus] The first apology was your turn, but somehow I was made to learn that if you hurt me and I spoke, your pain became the larger note. I said, “I'm sorry.” You calmed enough that something in me called it love. [Outro] I don't remember what began. I remember saying sorry.
