meaningless words sang by a pretty voice
won't do much once you stop hearing
'cause you've realized you're not feeling.

and that shot of whisky feels better than being alone
'cause you'll take a burning sensation over the common cold
that rests in her heart, and rings in your head.

and the knife you keep close to your pillow to ****
the bad dreams away, but all you see is her face
and your blade it doesn't cut as hard as her words when they,

slice through your throat and... you still feel her fingers gripping
and they don't run down your broken little spine like they used to
no.

now they just linger in the depths of your soul,
her lips breaking your bones over, and over
just like before, once and for all.