Damien Rice

I reach out to you like Damien Rice
I cry at this cruel world and her lies.


I rip the strings off the guitar,

And usually I’m about to sing,

But with the constant scream burning inside of me I can’t go that far.
On both of my hands there is this huge blister,

In my heart there is this huge bullet wound of this pistol,

the pistol from the dangerous world.


I bite my tongue in anguish

My mouth is tasting the blood,

My body is shivering from fear.


I guess this is what it is;

Living in a cruel world,

when you are the one I seem to miss..


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