How can you take
A knife to my chest
And be confused
When I say that
I'm broken?
I never asked you
To dress my wounds
Or undress my soul,
Yet the very hands
Holding me together
Are the ones
I'm afraid of.
How can you take
A knife to my chest
And be confused
When I say that
I'm broken?
I never asked you
To dress my wounds
Or undress my soul,
Yet the very hands
Holding me together
Are the ones
I'm afraid of.
