All the shit you put them through
All good things weigh down on you
The night you made it all the way home
Calling your mom on the telephone
Life takes a turn every week
One it’s you the others me
Buried under this concrete
I need you like I need my own blood to bleed.
My own blood to bleed….
Out on everything
My own blood to bleed…
Rip the skin you say I need
I say I’m sorry for the things I’ve done
I prayed to a God that you swore hurt no one
And all good things end as they they come
I am the dying light in the setting sun
What you wanted
What we had
What you wanted
Do you get sad?
What you wanted?
Is it in that place?
What you wanted
The dead don't raise.