i can smell you on my bed, on my pillow, in the bedroom, we once shared
i turn my face to hide my head, from the background and the vision of you therewhat's the point of breathing if you can't enjoy what you should be living
but youre living and you're living and you're livingi pull the covers over tight, and start hiding, from the feelings, i once had
if i could just suffocate, and be lifted to existance without painwhat's the point of breathing if you can't enjoy what you should be living
but youre living and you're living and you're livingthese cuts are from you
from my hand
that you forcedand these cuts are from you
from my hand that you forcedparachute
let me go
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