So thoroughly convinced that the product of persistenceWas a love that I'd been told of when I was just a kidI was wed to my misery in the hope that at the ceremonyYou'd interject, but you never did
Now seven years on, bitter and resentfulI still contemplate what I did to deserveThe glimpses of affection you used to distract meAs you were filing my teeth to the nerve
I know you were the death of me, but still in spite of everythingI hope that you are finding sleep while I still lay awakeAlthough my throat is burning now, it's still so quiet in the houseThe emptiness you occupied is more than I can take
Tell me, are you ashamed?'Cause I felt alone and you watched as I decayedI slipped through your hands as I fadedI've tried to forget, but your love will make a museum of me yetI hope you know how long I've waited
Though reservoirs of self-disgust have swollen up inside my lungsPulmonary Oedema is no substitute for love that once lay its head upon my chestA comfort cradled motionless, but I have come undoneMy love is not enough
I know it's hard to watch your light fade from my eyesBut darling, for my sake you've got to let it dieMy weathered hands have dug this grave enoughIt's time for us to bury our love
Tell me, are you ashamed?'Cause I felt alone and you watched as I decayedI slipped through your hands as I fadedI've tried to forget, but your love will make a museum of me yetI hope you know how long I've waited
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