Ardvarck - Six | Текст песни

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• Ardvarck
• Six

I'm miserable and I think you like it
I think you need it.
My suffering burns like still frames in your eyes.
As a fascination of inner torture, self-inflicted, and amplifying danger.
When my hands still smell like smoke, tightness in my chest grows.
At least they're not the ones around your throat.
It's fucking bitter, how you stayed home
It's fucking bitter, the coming winter cold
I know it's true.
You never loved me.
I was led to believe, no matter how much I bleed, you would help sew all the stitches.
I would apologize if it were at all my fault.

I did too much. I lost so much. I bled so much.
Was it you or I who belongs buried at the end of the rides that we used to drive, each and every night?

They say home is where the heart is, but I forgot where I put it, who had it last, and who treated it like the bottle made of glass. Smashed and shattered, left in a parking lot to break down, and reflect light.
A light that never caught. A light that never burned out.

I am invisible.
I am rustled sheets.
I am the leftover prints of our feet on a world we could have conquered.
I am those hopeless dreams.
I am the ruins that remain.
I am the sleep that can't be had.
I am the sleep that can't be had.

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