April
Monday 12 January 2009 photo 1/1
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You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real
Oh the truth hurts
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before
Oh what are we doing
We are turning into dust
Playing house in the ruins of us
Running back through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late...
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell you something that ain't real
Oh the truth hurts
And lies worse
How can I give anymore
When I love you a little less than before
Oh what are we doing
We are turning into dust
Playing house in the ruins of us
Running back through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late...
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