Who said 'time heals all wounds'
I think it was me before I met you
Your silver chains have slit my wrists
When I fell in love, I never asked for this
All this time, and I still can't see
How your poisoned mind still poisons me
The silver chains around your neck
Cut my throat, when you turned your back
I've tried so hard to keep control
But the thought of you keeps tearing at my soul
I've tried so hard to keep control
But the thought of you keeps tearing at my soul
I think it was me before I met you
Your silver chains have slit my wrists
When I fell in love, I never asked for this
How your poisoned mind still poisons me
The silver chains around your neck
Cut my throat, when you turned your back
But the thought of you keeps tearing at my soul
I've tried so hard to keep control
But the thought of you keeps tearing at my soul
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Even as a moody, poetically doomed teenager, I recognised this as a level of self-pity to which even I could not throw myself without being rather ashamed.
Weren't girls terrible when you were a teenager. All they did was wander around emotionally disembowelling (or in this case, wrist- and throat-slitting) innocent young men. So cruel.
I don't think I could sing this now without laughing.