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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Tell me a lie, I'll be the first to fall. Give me an offer unofferable. Imagine the warmth, in those tiny hands, that held onto a penance, I didn't deserve. Don't it feel like a knife, in the back of your head? And it reeks like an afterthought rotten and said. Maybe something got lost or forgotten instead. Oh, and I'm bound by a trunk, with a few memories, of how you burn through your lovers, it's like an ugly disease. Give me an offer unofferable. That held onto a penance, I didn't deserve. And it reeks like an afterthought rotten instead, and maybe something got lost or forgotten and said. |