Peter Moren
my match
Iâve sent my dogs to war,
canât shoot them anymore
But I had to let them down,
when thereâs truth to be found
Polite beyond control,
in possession of the soul
Though slow enough to catch,
I have met my match
And I canât say that I plead guilty of theft
But I agree Iâve done you wrong
And if thereâs any solid air in here left
I will inhale it âtil youâre gone
Done the town and come
back home
How did you think that I would react to this?
That I would laugh and make
a face?
And though Iâm devastated, beaten to the grave
I laid me down, forgot, forgave
What is left is worth to save
Trust me, I trust you, thereâs plenty left to do
Regardless of the facts,
I have met my match