Texty: Impossibles (The). Return. This Is Fucking Tragic.

We've come to feel so cold
I can't stand waiting
Here in your hand I fold
To keep from breaking
Down turned and wearing thin
I put myself in
Your shoes have left you broken,
blistered, bleeding, and bruised

(I thought you loved me)
Tonight
I'd give you my life
Just to die
At your side
I would give you my life
Just to keep receiving that lost feeling

Salting open wounds
With words you can't help but
Here is my last goodnight
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight