What can we scrape together from our loveworn emotions
Handfuls of hate and a bittersweet devotion?
Cause I am pushing cobwebs, and I'm floating into myself;
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life...
You could burn a thousand days, and I would need no other light;
You could die a thousand ways, and I'd still love you back to life...
Without a lover to wake me, and my loneliness like quicksand
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life...
I had a mean sleep over you, (Over you...)
And it hurts coming back to life... (coming back to life...) coming back to life...
I am lost to the longing, I am molded by the memory;
Had to shut down half my mind just to fill the space you left behind...
Cause I am moving cobwebs, and I'm folding into myself;
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
Handfuls of hate and a bittersweet devotion?
Cause I am pushing cobwebs, and I'm floating into myself;
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life...
You could burn a thousand days, and I would need no other light;
You could die a thousand ways, and I'd still love you back to life...
Without a lover to wake me, and my loneliness like quicksand
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
How could the clouds tease us into thinking it might rain?
How could the need deceive us into thinking things might change?
I had a mean sleep over you
And it hurts coming back to life...
I had a mean sleep over you, (Over you...)
And it hurts coming back to life... (coming back to life...) coming back to life...
I am lost to the longing, I am molded by the memory;
Had to shut down half my mind just to fill the space you left behind...
Cause I am moving cobwebs, and I'm folding into myself;
Who will find me under this mean sleep?
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