This ring on my finger,
I've worn it on my hand,
since that day you gave it to me.

This ring on my finger,
I've never taken it off,
since the day you put it on.

It's been a while,
since that day,
and the ring shows the time.

It's not as polished,
as when you got it,
no longer a bright silver band.

It's got a dent in it,
who knows where from,
that I consider a beauty mark.

My finger is now tough,
callous on both sides,
with a tan line in between.

I've worn it cross-country,
I wore it in exercize,
no matter how dirty it got.

I've worn it repelling,
I wore it digging,
I even hit someone with it in a fight.

I've worn it in good times,
I've worn it through bad times,
I kissed it when we said good-bye.

You wear this ring's twin,
on your own finger,
gave to you that very day.

I know it wasn't much,
but it was the thought that count,
your eyes told me it was true.

What this ring represents,
isn't the money we spent for it,
but the commitment we stood for.

We've been through thick,
we've been through thin,
and we been through worse than that.

Now that we're apart,
I promised that I'd return...



why do you want to give it back?

10/10/2005