Is this real or is it a dream? I can't seem to tell the difference any more Caught between needing and the need to be real Your open arms gaping like a busted sore
I turn and burn my back like a rack Your tourniquet twists me, dangerous red I breath in the air, it's pavement grey It shrinks my skin and I've done nothing wrong
I drop to my knees, I work my skin I feel this life pumping right through me Love and death die on the dirty floor Your upturned face doesn't even see
This is all I'll ever have It's cos I don't know what I want But something's inside, something's inside Something's inside, but I've done nothing wrong
They'll make a film Ask me the question I have the pleasure
My voice is nothing My thoughts are nothing In many respects I'm like you Nothing
I've done nothing wrong |
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