Baby, it hurts seeing you like this
And it hurts knowing I can’t do a thing about it
But when you smell like sickness
I'll still wash away the blood

You know I still talk to your mother
While she's crying on the phone and I feel like dying
I get scared of losing you
So when all my fears come true

I'll see you at the wake
But you won't see me, 'cause I'll be hiding back behind your family
Keeping all my tears
In a little glass bottle, God almighty, I won’t make it through the year
Can I just make it through the year
Can I just make it through the year, year, year?