I was dreamin bout your lips again.
The way they used to kiss me.
The cigarettes hung on your breath,
And every one felt empty.
I was dreamin bout your arms again.
They pushed much more than held me.
The weakness in the claws that grab.
The crippling and the blinding,
So inviting.

But now I'll never play the fool
Cause I have learned this simple rule:
I'd be better off dead than loving you.

I was dreamin bout your love again.
That sad excuse for happy.
Those endless days we spent in bed,
In silence, without touching.
And then I see your face again.
And I don't feel a damn thing.
It's not the face I used to see.
The one that nearly killed me,