When you were locked up in your room alone neglecting even just to touch the phone, salty tears rolling down your cheeks like they had done any times before, did you fear that every time you speak would be the very final word that creeps between your teeth and off your tongue before you collapse from a broken heart?
I've gone half crazy worried about you, about you... My left eye's gone lazy worried about you,
Every morning you were petrified that nobody could ever pacify the sinking feeling that you had deep down that kept your heart on hold? My shoulder was an easy place to hide, but I didn't mind because I could pass the time counting the thousand little lies you kept inside of your broken heart.
I've gone half crazy worried about you, about you... My left eye's gone lazy worried about you, about you...
Every word you say is self-directed and I think that that is tragic. And every time you open up you mouth to speak it's self referenced, and that's tragic. You don't have to see the world to know it's true, you don't have to see the world to know that it keeps turning.
I've gone half crazy worried about you, about you... My left eye's gone lazy worried about you, about you...