i had a passion for strangers and prescription pain killers.
now, is that so bad? i do what i do but i don't do what you did.
we got a wicked ignition and the devil makes three.
i'm just trying to rev up my engine.
are you trying to punish me?
i was born to a little dead angel.
she dressed my wounds in tape and paper.
she said, does it still hurt real bad?
i am where i am and you're where you're at.
it's like the search that's on inside of me and one day'll sail past my eyes.
you can see the flicker of something i've been trying to find.
we weren't here at the same time.
she was leaving just as i arrived.
she touched my hand as she went past and said,
"your heart is all you have."
and if asking for directions proves that you are lost,
well, how else you ever gonna, how you gonna get where you want? c
ome on.
i look at all the things i purchased when i was feeling worthless,
but the stores became cages holding blank faces and time wasted.
and time is passing.
time is dying.
time is history.
and in all this time, the clocks' hands never once reached out for me.
you can tell now that i'm tired,
oh, it's exhausting to be so diligent in my vigilance,
to have a heart that never sleeps.
so this lullaby for lonesome bella will never be complete.
or i might close my eyes to dream of the idleness of being.
just like a soldier up all hours waiting for the enemy,
i'm always watching, always guarded,
oh, my heart never sleeps.
my heart never sleeps.
my heart never, my heart never, my heart never sleeps.