I give blood to prove to myself
That I can matter to somebody else.
Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands?
don't put you're faith in the desert sand,
the wind is always blowing
There are gallows deep inside my lungs,
that's where I hung ambition.

Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
So give me seven more

I give blood not for the cause but to slowly give up the person I was
Holding my breath won't help, everything went to hell
So now I steal back pennies from the well
because my wishes failed
I am screaming at my own shadow to stop living like a ghost.

Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
So give me seven more

I don't need her I'm not that desperate
Come visit me in twenty years and maybe then
cause I'm not done screaming yet
you can call off the intervention,
cause I don't need your attention

Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
So give me seven more

I don't need her I'm not that desperate
I don't need her I'm not that desperate