I think it's over
I think I'm done
It hurts to hold her
It shouldn't hurt to love

Saturday morning, just last week
I was still mourning, over bloody concrete
Stained and dark, they put a bullet through his heart
cnd when he was drained, vultures picked his skin apart

Nothing will make you love me again
I pushed and shoved, you bent
Some kind of twisted torment
cll those colors we tried to blend
Just turned brown, and hung by a thread
I tried writing words profound
Within the songs I sung and words I said
But my songs didn't have a sound
cnd my words only reached when I pled

I think it's over
I think I'm done