The Forgetting Of Wisdom

A summer’s day at my disposal
By way of apology, a proposal
I really should have realised I was wrong, wrong, wrong
Such a long, long, long time ago
It hasn’t been all beer and skittles
There was some madness in the middle
I’ll make us sandwiches and I’ll make amends
Am I making sense?
We were good, good friends for a while
It’s almost — literally — the least that I could do