Burnt Hands

Hung his picture on the bathroom mirror
And I washed my hands under the sink
And the water burned into my fingers
And the skin began to swell and shrink

So I wonder what the pain was all for
If my hands are clean then I'm not bad
But I didn't want to feel anymore
For the picture my reflection had

(Oh no, oh no)

Dying is my favourite pastime
So is eating things that I can't taste
And reliving old notes and messages
And deleting pictures of your face

Why am I so consumed by your phone call?
Why I laughed and why I cried down the phone
You were not who I wanted to talk to
I guess I'm just doomed to be alone

(Oh no, oh no)



Credits
Writer(s): Rosie Arwen Ross
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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