And love used to be such a sweet feeling,
but now all we have
is this sick memory of joy.

And you used to be all that I would care about,
but now you're nothing
but a lost ghost in my despair.

Wish you'd see the broken tears, dropping down my face,
Wish you'd see the dead, frozen heart,
trying to beat once again,
but never getting rid of the sensation,

Oh, yes, that sensation of betrayal,
of having lost so many sunsets.
The strange awareness of being so stupid,
so wrong,
so simple,
so strong.

Gotta have a gungrip in my hand,
so that I can shoot into my mind,
in a useless chance of killing
all the damn voices that will go on with their shouts.