If

I am sorry for everything, sorry,

If only I could change our fate,

Tell me I can, and stop the worry,

That is, if it isn’t too late.

I beg you to take me back,

To forget and wipe clean the slate,

Blame it on the devil, the drink, the bad luck,

If it isn’t too much, too little, too late.

Were the flowers, card and chocolate enough,

To go with  my apology as I prostrate?

Can I get a glance, a smile, a laugh?

Or is it to little, too much, too late.

If it isn’t too little,

If it isn’t too much,

If it isn’t too late

If.