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I lay me down, tending the wounds.
You've hurt me far too many times.
I'm choking under broken truths...
About her, I've wrote too many lines.
Now I'm nothing but a bleeder,
passing broken roads and blurry signs.

After one or two I can feel the sting,
starting the bleeding.
It's sad but true, as my tears sing...
an emotional song about never feeling.

By the time I hit four,
it's all starting to be real..
as my body is hitting the floor,
and the pain I can feel.

Counting the cuts..
you inflict upon me.
There seems to be no end..
to this tragedy.
Now I'm nothing but a bleeder,
and my soul's already left my body..