Take me away with good music.
I can't handle these bruises.
Their turning black and blue,
An they keep reminding me of you.

It hurts, deep down in my chest
There's a hole there, where you used to lay your head.
I'm sick of that fact, it makes me heave
Thinking of then makes me want to leave.

Your only hurting yourself now,
Ask me to stay? Explain to me how.
I can't trust your tongue.
You may be old. But your still acting young.