| The blood has dried and the wounds are high
|
| The scars are settling in
|
| So I keep the light low and they still show
|
| I sit and count every stitch
|
| And what it means, what it really means
|
| It’s time I let everything go
|
| That’s killing me
|
| And turning me
|
| Spinning me so out of control
|
| I don’t want to let go, let go
|
| I don’t want to let go
|
| I don’t know what for but these open doors
|
| Keep slamming in on me
|
| And if life’s a joke then it’s getting old
|
| And I hope God’s looking out for me
|
| What it means, what it really means
|
| It’s time I let everything go
|
| That’s killing me
|
| And turning me
|
| Spinning me so out of control
|
| I don’t want to let go, let go
|
| I don’t want to let go
|
| And what it means, what it really means
|
| It’s time I let everything go
|
| That’s killing me
|
| And turning me
|
| Spinning me so out of control
|
| I don’t want to let go
|
| I don’t want to let go
|
| The blood has dried and the wounds are high
|
| The scars are settling in |