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I'm sorry I live inside such a tortured mind |
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and nothing could save me, so I couldn't save us |
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there's drops of blood left on the piano where you had once played |
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and on the pillow next to me where you had once laid |
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it drowns out the familiar smell of you |
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and I know that it's my fault |
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so now I search for your voice through the static on the radio |
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because your song used to fill my ears like a rush of wind |
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oh, there's a place just for me in hell for the things I've done |
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and you are laying atop the dark clouds above |
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don't worry my darling, I will pay for my crimes |
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and on my way down, I'll look up at you as you're waving goodbye |
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this is the end |
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your silence is deafening |
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the guilt the I have carried for to long is lifted at last |
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if you could go back to the beginning |
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would you have still sang to me |
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or would you have left me for dead? |
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at this point it all sounds the same |
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so **** it, we're all going to hell |
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and I will be waiting |
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together again, or perhaps it was meant to be |
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forever at rest, we will find comfort in the flames |
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I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I killed us. |
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Please take my hand, and sing to me one last time |
