| Somewhere under water
|
| Maybe you could find my heart
|
| That’s where I threw it after you had torn it out
|
| Oh, three days ago
|
| The doctor he said so, told me:
|
| Every skyline and every night spent alone
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| Is tearing me apart
|
| Maybe I should get some help
|
| Maybe I should fly out to Montana
|
| It’s quiet
|
| Out past the electric lines
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| Out where no one will know my name
|
| Oh, I’ve had it now
|
| I am walking down to your house
|
| Banging on the door
|
| «Please, please, please, Mr. Hox
|
| Won’t you tell your daughter I’m all alone
|
| And I’m not handling this well.»
|
| You never know what you have
|
| Until you get it yanked out of your chest
|
| I am walking to the water
|
| Standing on the bank
|
| Staring at my reflection
|
| «Oh my god, I look pathetic tonight.»
|
| Well, guess what now?
|
| I’m diving in this river
|
| Fishing out my heart
|
| Never gonna let you
|
| Never gonna let you get your hands on this again |