Well I've been bleeding well from this old wound,
Cleaning it with salt so it will still feel new.
Sometimes eyes turn black,
And sometimes scars are tracks.
But everytime you're gone i wish that you'd come back.

And everyone watched me waste myself,
Everyone cheered at last.
All of them found it comforting,
It's better it's me..than them.

I think I'm doing well from what they say,
They've taken both my belt and shoelaces away.
Well I believe in luck,
I think I do.
Well I believe for sure
If ever I saw you.

I've been fanning flames from these old coals,
Feeding them with tender,
And hoping they will grow.
And I've been savoring
What I can't hold,
A blind belief in goodness
That doesn't seem to show.

I've been bleeding well,
From this old wound.
Cleaning it with salt,
So it will still feel new..