My heart shed blood the other night. It dripped and stained the floor.
The weakness of being powerless is superstitious.
Everything around is melting down, our photographs are melting, dripping down the walls.
Like they should have done weeks ago.
All I know is I loved you so.
Someone once told me to love you, you even told me yourself.
So what the hell am I supposed to do now?
Kill myself and let you feel emotional revenge? Was this the kind of love you've shown all of your friends?
My bleeding heart is weeping. I cry so hard everyday, even when I'm sleeping.
And the only time I ever see you, is when I'm dreaming.
