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i count them one by one
the saints go marching in
well, the future's gone
the past stumbles in
i feel
like a hole in the wall
i steal
my name from your door
you're here
but but i need you far away
it's a private pain
gonna tie the noose?
gonna lie for you?
and who
gonna wear your shoes
when you're six feet under the ground
well, i wish i could wipe
all my troubles away
and i wish i could find me
a brand new yesterday
promise me you wake me up
when i'm sleeping in my grave
there is no more tears
no more second left to waste
i can't stand the chatter
all that knocking at my door
too many wounds
not able to ignore
welcome to the point
where the drama begins
down in the gullet of the truth
in a ten foot cell
don't ever try to stop the rot
i do what i can
to ache a bit, break a bit
i waste what i am
i try to tame tomorrow
i try to hide the beast
i cut myself in pieces
so you can love much more of me