You are rocks full of blood,
And you've got enough to heal this town,
But the blood stands cold while our bones all fold.
Only now you see I'm an amputee,
And I fought before both world wars and mosaic floors
I've washed my feet...
While there are lives to be led and rocks to be bled,
By an easily led lonely boy who'd be better off dead.
Better off dead
I'm tired of the mutes in my life.
And I'm tired of this glass body.
It's only transparent from the outside.
And my bee-stung lips have sank a fair few ships,
While they continue to flap like hummingbird's wings deep into the night.
While there are lives to be led and rocks to be bled,
By an easily led lonely boy who'd be better off dead.
We could use your blood tonight in this cheap hotel,
Our fingers turning white,
But by the time your break down our door,
We'll have made our way from the easel to the cutting room floor.
We could use your blood to heat this hotel,
We could use your blood to paint this house red,
We could use your blood to heal this whole town,
We could use your blood before we pass out.
Writer(s): Paul Marshall
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