My Mistake

Forty thousand birds are singing out good morning but I barely hear the song While you're sound asleep on another frequency I put my finger on what's wrong From here on out it just gets hard and then more complicated It's not about the love we made it's more about the days ahead and then the days ahead of them the nagging doubt that maybe you were my mistake I recall the time you posed in the museum like some ancient work of art Then there was last night, how do you explain it it's just the language of the heart From here on out it just gets weird and then we both get quiet It's not about the old times sake it's more about the days ahead and then the days ahead of them the nagging doubt that maybe you were my mistake my mistake sorry my mistake my mistake