When you turned your back on me I stopped writing happy songs.
That's the price you pay for trusting someone who makes you feel less strong
A small jar slipped from my hands.
And the distance from my fingers to the floor was enough to shatter it.
And *******, it reminded me,
of how you dropped me.
So I spent hours, trying to piece it back together,
but those cracks still ******* show.
My cracks still ******* show.
Your fingers are caught,
entangled in my ribs,
my heart is in your palm,
and our time is running thin.
If this is what it feels like,
to fall out of love,
then I take back every kiss,
I take back every touch.
This body is weak.
This mind is weaker.
The discordance between the two is...
This grave is deep.
This pain is deeper.
The detachment of greed and love is...
These bitter sweet melodies are carried through the air
Echoing down the halls of a broken home
And I try to sing along or maybe even harmonize
But my voice is broken and gone
I felt ashamed for feeling anything at all
When you called.
The phone rang, shaking hands reaching over to answer
Just silence over wires for hours on end
But I didn't hang up.
Steady breathing on the line not a single word spoken.
Sometimes knowing you're there is enough.