| I’ve drunk too much, to belong to you
|
| Feel so much older, but I’m only 22
|
| She said she was an artist when I met her on the street
|
| She sleeps right through the afternoon and throws up on the sheet
|
| She took me to a hotel where she watched the evenings end
|
| Cried into her coffee swearing she was on a mend
|
| Two tortured souls digging a hole, when we need to cry
|
| I wish I had your heart instead of mine, instead of mine
|
| I took a nightbus down to the park
|
| I climbed over the gate and then I ran into the dark
|
| He said he was an artist on his bench under a tree
|
| He said he liked to see the stars but not on nights like these
|
| Two tortured souls digging a hole, when we need to cry
|
| I wish I had your heart instead of mine, instead of mine
|
| I’ve drunk too much to belong to you
|
| I look up all the people to help me make it through
|
| Everyone is an artist, and they’ve all got things to say
|
| They know the words to say it all, but just not what to say
|
| Just as night follows day, everything alive falls into decay
|
| That’s why I wish I had your heart, instead of mine
|
| Yes, I wish I had your heart instead of mine |