Another patient in the ward with a needle in my hand,
Another day, another year is wasted.
How am I meant to walk if I can't even stand?
Another day, another year I'm stranded.
Giving in again to thoughts that got me where I am.
The palest face, in a lonely space,
A brick veneer to a heart sincere but it's all misplaced.
A hanging thread, the sickness spread,
In my shattered veins ‘til they waste away you won't recognise me.
Back where I was born, with a needle in my hand,
Another day, another stitch is breaking.
A picture on the floor of a time not yet passed.
Another day, another year it's faded.
A fragile meant to be in a timber frame that's barely holding.
The palest face, in a lonely space,
A brick veneer to a heart sincere but it's all misplaced.
A hanging thread, the sickness spread,
In my shattered veins ‘til they waste away you won't recognise me.
It's all your fault.
It's all your fault.