Imagine the warmth In those tiny hands That held on to a penance I didn't deserve
Don't it feel like a knife In the back of your head And it reeks like an afterthought Rotten and said Maybe something got lost or forgotten instead I'm bound by a drunk With a few memories Of how you burn through your lovers It's like an ugly disease And give me un-offer, unofferable It held on to a penance, I didn't deserve And it reeks like an afterthought rotten instead And maybe something got lost or forgotten and said.