your voice in my head would be better off dead but can’t be broken like the glass on the floor. i hear one note and rewind so fast my head spins and i feel voodoo pins and needles and begin comes to an end. if only i could blame you. that would be easy. you walked away clean and well meaning not giving it another thought but the rope was taut around my neck.
three years gone by and it’s all still here in my head instead of dead or fading it floods back loud and clear as if it were yesterday.