What We Wrote
I wrote it on my hand, but it washed off in the shower.
I scratched it on the bark of a tree, but it was cut down.
I drew it on my face with eyeliner, but it ran when I cried.
I traced it on your skin, but I guess you didn't feel it.
And you, my dear,
you carved it into my heart with a silver dagger,
but the scars will remain forever.
I scratched it on the bark of a tree, but it was cut down.
I drew it on my face with eyeliner, but it ran when I cried.
I traced it on your skin, but I guess you didn't feel it.
And you, my dear,
you carved it into my heart with a silver dagger,
but the scars will remain forever.