In the corner of my room,
Every single night...

Bleed me dry
And hold my life In your fist...

Why am I always feeling this way?
Why can't I for one moment be okay...

All I am is in me,
All I am aches to be free...

My pen doesn't have the ink,
Nor my mind the wit...

When something is hurting
You can't fix it on your own...

Heaven cries black velvet raindrops,
Red rivers of crimson run the banks...

As I put this pen to paper,
I let my emotions go...

Back to the grass face to the sky, I lie.
The smell of the vineyards penetrates my soul...

As I lye down to sleep,
The voices of the hurt never cease...

It is a cold night, endless and icy,
and I sit alone reading a newspaper...

Dreading tomorrow
Hoping this storm will pass through the night...