This countdown
|
To the day of departure has slowly been eating away
|
It's a meltdown
|
It's a personal torture I never saw coming my way
|
I try to breathe deep
|
I try to find sleep
|
I try holding on to the same old song
|
Just because of a brand new verse
|
|
And I found what I always wanted
|
As she walked away
|
And I ran aground with this wound untreated
|
Let it wash away
|
|
So keep slipping
|
I continue to try in vain just to pinpoint an answer
|
I keep tripping
|
On the same damn wire and no one came tumbling after
|
Crawl back in reverse
|
Wash off this new verse
|
Then keep holding on to the same tired song
|
'cause from here it will only get worse
|
|
And I found what I always wanted
|
As she walked away
|
And I ran aground with this wound untreated
|
Let it wash away
|
|
Stitch me up (stitch me up)
|
And bleed me out
|
(It's over)
|
Stitch me up (stitch me up)
|
And bleed me out
|
(It's over)
|
Stitch me up (stitch me up)
|
And bleed me out
|
(It's over)
|
Stitch me up (stitch me up)
|
And bleed me out
|
|
I found what I always wanted
|
As she walked away
|
And I ran aground with this wound untreated
|
Let it wash away, let it wash away
|
|
-----------------
|
Stitches
|
| David Cook |
