This frame once held my favourite picture
But now it's empty (now it's empty)
Now it's broken (now it's broken)
And that's how you left my chest
Hollowed out by your hands
Where you dug a grave and laid
Your memory to rest

I hate the way you say I told you so
This is for all the wilted pedals on the floor
This is for a waste of a dozen roses maybe more

This should have ended with the kiss
That you left on someone else's lips
Which turned my heart inside out
You left it looking much the same
A motionless mass of muscle and vain
As I clean up this mess you've made

So as I sing you to sleep
I hope my ghost haunts your dreams
Lost in your memory
As bad as it seems

I hate the way you say I told you so
This is for all the wilted pedals on the floor
This is for a waste of a dozen roses maybe more
This is for how you deserve
Nothing more from a rose than the thorns

So twist the knife (with this knife I will cut)
Fashion me counter clockwise (the last piece of you from me)
Turn back time (the razor blades will separate)
Forget you never were mine (any connections we've made)

See also:
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