No One Listens When You Fall Apart - Old Wounds

Ginger ale and the fetal position

Who was it that chose this for me?

It wasn’t me

Sing a song of six pence, pocket full of rye

The numb is the void that lays awake at night

Tear the pages of my diary, so you have nothing to remember me

December 16, 1991. Please save the date.

You’ll cry now and I will cry later

I’ll sell myself for you.

I’ll carve your name just to commit.

There is no cure

for me.

Drop me and watch me break

Always the wrong one.

Never the right words

Bruise, glow, take it slow

The candle will burn to an end.

From birth through defects, I would never change

As selfish as it may be, I’m tired of the days that won’t let me sleep

Dry your eyes and hide them

I am a light that has died