| She's sick |
| Why can't you see those hands are cold are grey When her imperfections hide away And in the half-light you can Barely see that face Maybe it's better that way As you fall into waiting arms That loosen their embrace Finding comfort in restriction Eternally replace Why don't you know what's going on here The same things happen every few years As you fall into waiting arms That loosen their embrace Finding comfort in restriction Eternally replace Why can't you see those hands are cold and grey Their imperfections hide away At times you realize you Barely knew that name Maybe it's better that way As you fall into waiting arms That loosen their embrace Finding comfort in restriction Eternally replace |