The night is pitch and I sit and I sit and I sit
Wondering where it all went wrong
I fell to my knees and laid out all I had left
Humbled and wanting
From my open wounds she pulled out the precious black heart
And she squeezed it, she squeezed it, she squeezed it,
Slowly and gently 'till it popped like a ripe tomato
"I don't know why," she said as she looked away from me
My blood still dripping from her hand,
"But I don't love you anymore."
With one last look she turned and was gone
And I bled, and I bled, and I bled
Until I was dry and empty, a husk of meat and bone
Light as a feather, but heavier than any scale could measure
She wanted to go so I let her
Far from the things I wanted to give
And now I sleep, I sleep, I sleep
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