By the time I was done, you were back in my arms
Shuffling our fingers like a delicate deck of cards
There was sweat in my neck, sweat in my palms
And a sting from each drop, under each bracelet of each scars.
To stop the tears on my pillowcases was impossible, but not the snot on your sweatshirt
And the sundown falling on my hair as you brushed it back, like red dirt
Each gentle pat made me throb, made my head hurt
Sleeping not being an option, we\'d interrupt with a yet or but.
With scars on my arm crusty blooded, you\'d still find my skin silky
Falling asleep without me, with such a pretty face, really?
You\'re just a man with a tired back and you still find strengh to build me
Yet here I am bleeding my nails like will he ever leave me? Will he?
Insomniacs do what insomniacs will do, so I stay awake staring at the ceiling
Will I ever hang from it from a rope, from my wings, will it ever be healing?
Someone barge in and steal his feeling that\'s peeling
The tissue from my lungs, making it tempting to stop breathing.
Come morning I\'ll ask you, don\'t trigger the alarms
Let me rest in your scent, while my sad abyss is unarmed
Once arrived the sunset, I\'ll embrace you in my chest, beating calm yet alarmed
If it\'s to end, let it end, while you\'re still here, back in my arms.