Thinking of the ones we've left at home...discovering new meaning through a phone...as this white wash look takes over my face...there's not a metaphor to describe this place.
The first time, she cared for, everything that was so dear to me, i sang her, to sleep once, something simple just a soft little melody.

1st chorus:
my fingers, press the steel, it tells me what to sing, this heart beats like a drum, to keep your feet in rythm.

2nd vs.
Everything that's done runs through my brain...everything she said seems to leave a stain. Something about how i didn't try enough. But i tried so hard she just asked to much.
The last time, she murdered, everything that was so dear to me. With tongues tied, i whisper, something awful that i never really meant inside.

2nd chorus:
my fingers, press her skin, it tells me what to say, her hear beats like a drum, to keep her song in rythm.

And whatever happens now, is not just up to me, look through your tears to watch me bleed. It was a heavy price to pay, i took your fears away, we can start it over again.

Now i see behind these eyes of blue...cause behind the brown would never do. I try and sing a song so sweet and clear...something simple so the words won't interfere.....