So unaffectionate,
So insecure.
You claim to know
A thing or two about heartache,
And what it's like to have your insides torn out.
And I believe you
I see it every time your pallbearer's pallor is obscured by the darkness (the darkness)
Dancing across your face (across your face)
And when the blackness veils your eyes in pain.
I know what it's like when memories make you wince
And love letter read like obituaries
And photo albums are the books of the dead
I need no reminders, (no more reminders).
I'll forget the past and lay it to rest.
If I had my way I'd cut
The calluses off your, off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum.
Cauterize those wounds with every kiss I could give to you.
I'm holding your heart in my hand,
The reason it still beats.
Am I being too cryptic?
Am I being too obscure?
Am I being too cryptic?
Am I being too obscure?
Love kills, romance is dead and I don't even trust myself, but I love you
And you can pull my wings apart
And pin me down under glass until the end of days
If it can help you discover that we share the same pain.
I just hope you write your thesis before
Your subject is dead.
No life after death.
If I had my way I'd cut
The calluses off your, off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum.
Cauterize those wounds with every kiss I could give to you.
I'm holding your heart in my hand,
The reason it still beats.
If I had my way I'd cut
The calluses off your, off your breaking heart
If I could get past the sternum.
Cauterize those wounds with every kiss I could give to you.
I'm holding your heart in my hand,
The reason it still beats.
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