In the corner beside my window,
Hangs a lonely photograph,
There is no reason,
I'd never notice,
A memory that could hold me back.
There is a wound,
That's always bleeding,
There is a road,
I'm always walking,
And I know,
You'll never return to this place.
Gone through days,
Without talking,
There is a comfort in silence,
So used to losing all ambition,
Struggling to maintain what's left.
There is a wound,
That's always bleeding,
There is a road,
I'm always walking,
And I know,
You'll never return to this place.
Once undone,
There is only smoke,
Burning in my eyes to blind,
To cover up what really happened,
Force the darkness unto me.
There is a wound,
That's always bleeding,
There is a road,
I'm always walking,
And I know,
You'll never return to this place.

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