With all that you were
with all your good little things
why do you cause so much harm
and burn, burn, burn?
And your voice that was silence
the softest calm of the river
why does it become a storm
and cold, cold, cold?
What are all those shadows
that have darkened the day?
That make your wound bleed today
and are going to make mine bleed
Your smile the clearest
light of all my brushes
Why does it become a lament
and you hurt, hurt, hurt?
And your voice that was silence
the softest calm of the river
Why does it become a storm
and cold, cold, cold?
What are all those shadows
that have darkened the day?
That make your wound bleed today
and are going to make mine bleed
They are going to make mine bleed
With all that you were
And you burn, burn, burn

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