| Lying awake, on my own again
|
| I can finally steal the entire bed
|
| And yet I curl into this ball of flesh
|
| Protected from the chill that starts
|
| Inside my bones and spreads to parts
|
| Of me that I’d forgotten could feel
|
| The pain of cold
|
| But they’ll numb themselves soon enough or so I’m told
|
| Alone
|
| Desperate for somebody, for you to hold
|
| But all I’ll be is holding out until the only skin I need’s my own
|
| To feel at home again
|
| Alone again
|
| Window is open and the sky is dim
|
| You know me and my affair with 4 a. |
| m
|
| But all I wish for now is sleep’s sweet release
|
| Music of the rain keeps me awake
|
| Wishing it were running down my face
|
| Instead of rivulets of the saltier kind
|
| Oh, how it stings
|
| But like learning, healing’s only something time can bring
|
| Alone
|
| Desperate for somebody, for you to hold
|
| But all I’ll be is holding out until the only skin I need’s my own
|
| To feel at home again
|
| Alone again
|
| The walls where our shadows used to play
|
| The echoes of promises we made
|
| The sheets where our bodies used to lay
|
| Tangled and hard to discern
|
| Like telling apart happiness and familiar comfort
|
| Alone
|
| Desperate -- for you to hold
|
| But all I’ll be is holding out until the only skin I need’s my own
|
| To feel at home again
|
| Alone again
|
| Whole again
|
| Alone again… |