So, I have a confession, and it’s not the conventional type. It’s not the sort of confession
That shows its colours, wiggle down and is valid till night. See, I have a confession, and
I promise it won’t bite. I tend to lie about these things, but this time I fear I’m right.
No, I have a confession, and I’ll tell you if I might, but just be honest with me – like you’ve
Done most times, I mean, most times – quite.
Yes, I have a confession, perhaps you’ll be surprised when it hits. But then by now,
I’m already certain, you already know precisely what it is. Well, I have a confession,
not as pretty as gold and glitter, maybe to you it’s ugly – I mean you do know me better.
Look, I have a confession, besides the beautiful lights, why each time I try to say it my chest is getting so tight?
Okay, okay, I have a confession, but just give me a moment please, to collect my composure
And to just put my mind at ease. Listen, I have a confession, I – no, no
you know what it is, but why I have to say it – stop!
His confession, his. But, I have a confession, I’ve been waiting for you, no that’s not the confession, I’m still trying to break it to you.
I breathe. You breathe.
Here we go again.
I have a confession – tres bien.
Forget my confession, I’ll take it to the grave. Yes, I know I should say it, yes, I know I should be brave.
But I don’t want to be disappointed,
Even though I know, I will, so I’m sorry
Ma tete de poulet,
to confess – I never will.