| Still strung out on a sharp stutter mouth,
|
| He left me wounded on the sand,
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| There are no healing hands,
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| He left an arrow in my heart.
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| No one else can make the dark silver melt,
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| Like a sword is in the stone,
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| It keeps my blood in flow,
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| To pull it out would turn the lights out.
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| Quick shards of light on my pillow,
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| Remind me that I haven’t let go.
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| He signed his name with a burning flame,
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| All across my bones, my aching shield,
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| To him alone I yield,
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| I wished a hundred times I could feel it.
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| Quick shards of light on my pillow,
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| Remind me that I haven’t let go.
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| Holding me loose by the elbow,
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| And guiding me through what he won’t show,
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| I cling on for dear life till he says so. |