I have my broken hands
I'm punching walls
But never breaking through
And the irony is that these hands that hurt so much
Used to bring me such joy
When I was holding you
Well
They are still my hands
And not yours
We only share the wounds
Because the only truth I've found from introspection
Is that I only hurt
Because I hurt you
Still
My hands my be broken
Bitter cradling shattered glass
Holding broken frets
But when I analyze and over-analyze what really happened
I found it's something I create
Beautiful music you don't want to hear

We aren't holding hands anymore