I have thirteen bruises on my right leg but none of them hurt as the one you left on the left side of my heart.
there's aΒ photograph on my bedside table you thought the sun will shine whenever I'd look at it, now you have gone, the sky in the picture has turned to something dark no room for sun, and there's dust on the photograph and you you are just a shadow on the sidewalk I fall on letting all the rain pour down on my soul, and the sun is just a memory and you are just an excuse to turn my smiles into tears and I am just the dust falling on your lungs.
and we were just a glimpse of happiness, an illusion a dream, a lie I listen to before my eyes close, before the darkness comes in.