I refuse to sit and listen to you whine about your scars,
I've got a busy day ahead collecting hearts in jars,
I keep them on a shelf at home, where I poke them till they bleed;
Some people think its crazy, but I prefer to call it greed.

My heart cannot be caught, its stuck inside a box
Its stashed inside, a small small room, with lots and lots of locks.
I collect these jars for company, so my heart is not alone.
Because even a lonely tree, will try and grow around a stone.

The heart is a cave, where there lives not a soul;
Full of nothing but fire, and smoldering hot coal;
There is a path that will lead to a small cavern of pain
Of emotions, so mutated, they don't have a name;

At night, in the silence, you occasionally hear;
A faint little voice... gargled, not clear;
Of the Soul that's been lost in the mountains of ash;
Left deep in the dark, discarded like trash;

There's nothing else there, not a bug, not a snake,
Just echo's of dreams, and sighs of heartbreak;
A monotonous melody that the Soul sings..
Of wishes of saviors, and Angels with wings........

I've got a queen size...
But I sleep on one side..
Because the other side reminds me of you..

And in this queen size...
I close both eyes,
And do my best not to dream about you..

Oh,
But this bed is big enough for two..
Oh,
Why could it not have been you?

I wonder if we look up at the sky together,
Through the clear or stormy weather,
Would we be staring at the same cloud?

I have to close my eyes to see,
The way you looked staring back at me,
The distant look of sorrow on your face.

And I wondered if I stayed;
Would either of our hearts been saved?
Or would we stay standing...
Drowning in the same place?