|
What should I tell her? |
|
She's going to ask |
|
If I ignore it, it gets uncomfortable |
|
She'll want to argue about the past |
|
Still I think she believes me, every word I say |
|
I think I'm starting to believe it all myself |
|
Go ask the gentlemen who play it |
|
But hate to pay |
|
And it don't bleed and it don't breathe |
|
It's locked its jaws and now it's swallowing |
|
It's in our heart, it's in our heads |
|
It's in our love, baby, it's in our bed |
|
It holds my arms down, sits upon my chest |
|
It waves its finger at me every night and day |
|
And it don't rest |
|
And it don't breathe and it don't bleed |
|
It's locked its jaws and now it's swallowing |
|
It's all a lie, it's nearly dead |
|
It's in our hope, baby, it's in our bed |
