And it’s a poor boy who’s alive at best, mistakes the pulse inside his chest for the cartilage between his legs and it’s all he knows. It’s all he knows.

And it’s a sad girl who sits and cries, mistake true love for brutal eyes and a warm wet tongue in between her thighs. It’s all she knows, all she knows.

And he wonders what she hides in those bags under her eyes, the secrets of the sleepless nights she spent with him since she let him in. And the hands that those weapons are in both commit the greatest sin by breaking hearts instead of skin. It’s all they know, all they know.

And she wipes her tears back as she sings how broken hands make broken things. She sings, yeah she sings and she wipes her tears back as she sings how broken hands make broken things. She sings, yeah she sings.

And he wonders what she hides in those bags under her eyes, the secrets of the sleepless nights she spent with him since she let him in.