I’ll be sitting
on the couch waiting for you
When you
crawl back to your misery
She’s your
misery
And I got
no ways to stop you from doing it
She’s your
torture
But it
seems like she’s also medicine
For your
bleeding scars stop hurting.
You’re
falling apart in front of me
And I got
no ways to tell you not to do so
But if our
grace don’t help us to survive
I’ll find a
way of putting you together once again
Even if it
means that I will slowly and painfully die.
