Turning stones and breathing smoke
The cold dry air seems to never go.
The writings clear, still written in ink
It's funny that I still have the page because I never think about
Where it's been or what you give
You're always playing the victim
When your the one who hits.

I've been working so hard
To show you that I'm more
I've been trying so hard
To be a stone you can't un-turn.

Look in the mirror to find the crack is you.
Broken in half without a thing to do
The sinks run dry you can't wash the guilt and you're in that hole again
Clawing to be free
But all you'll see is me.