the razors on your lips left no noticable marks
the pain i seem to keep inside was the remainder of shrapnel embedded in my heart
if i close my eyes i go back again all i see is the smokin' gun in your hand
could you count on that perpetual sin to help you analize or even understand
I'm sorry i couldn't help you change couldn't carry you that one last mile
and now love like an open wound seeps infection into this dying soul