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The Sickness of Your Memory

how can I stop this stubborn heart

from pumping blood to what's left of you in me

can't you see that I'm growing weak

and your memory's a leech

the temperature of your voice

fires my fever to keep me from the cold

of losing you...I'm losing you

but you look so beautiful in this hospital bed

of what we said would never end

and I know it's pitiful but this medicine

says I'll never feel again

but I'll still monitor your heart rate

to calculate your health

even when it's keeping me from sleeping

because it's beating for someone else

well, if bitter is all I can be, I'd rather not be at all

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