Let's get a bottle of wine and talk about it over dinner,
It's going to be a hard pill to swallow.
I'll have to stick to my guns.

In fact, let's get two bottles of wine, one each,
You will probably hate me for what I'll say.
I've got to, for me, for once, be truthful.

Screw it, let's get a third bottle of wine.
This will be too hard to say without a drink.
I can do this, but I don't know if you can.

Sod it, three bottles of wine, but no dinner,
I don't want to cook.
The truth already fills my mouth,
Already churns my stomach.
Everything is going to change beyond belief.

Right, okay, three bottles of wine,
And we'll talk over the phone.
I can't sit and watch the truth sodomise your heart.
I have to say it out loud though.

Never mind. No Wine. No Dinner. No Phone call.
Just talking, painful, pitiful talking.
About how I can't do this,
It's time to walk away.
Time to leave.