The blade of my knife. Faced away from your heart. Those last few nights. It turned and sliced you apart. This love that I tell. Now feels lonely as hell.
The blade of my knife. Faced away from your heart. Those last few nights. It turned and sliced you apart. This love that I tell. Now feels lonely as hell.
And I'm walking wounded, in my sleep. And the work on my hand so sickens me. Tonight .... . And the dreams come on. Like a raging flood. I can feel the flames and taste the blood, now.