Paper Boats

I wrote it out in full one night,

everything I never said,

sat with it for a fortnight,

then I took it to the canal.

Folded it into a shape

my grandmother taught me as a kid,

put it on the water,

and I watched it go and not come back.

No apology arriving.

No apology was ever coming —

Paper boats. (paper boats)

Sent, not delivered.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

It's for me. It was always for me.

Forgiveness isn't a handshake,

it's putting the weight in the water.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

And I'm not confused about it — this is not reunion,

some doors stay shut for reasons and the reasons haven't moved,

I'm not owed a conversation and I'm not going to get one,

and I stopped auditioning for closure like it's something you get given.

So the letter went out sideways, to the water, to the air,

'cause the point was never landing, it was carrying it there.

Some of them I'd say it to. Some of them I never will.

Both of them got boats. The canal's been very busy.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

One for every year.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

Not a pardon, not a peace treaty —

just a hand that's finally empty.

That's all I was after.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

Paper boats. (paper boats)

Sent, not delivered.

And it doesn't mean it's fine,

and it doesn't mean it's finished,

it just means I'm not the harbour

for a fleet that never sailed.

Paper boats. (paper boats)

Go on. Go on.