Calloused
I’m picking at my scabs.
I’ll let all the bruises show.
I’ll never forget what all these feelings meant.
Flying home for a funeral was my last regret.
I hear a telephone three thousand miles from home.
Do you really care?
Your heart is just a stone.
I’ll never forget what all these feelings meant.
Flying home for a funeral was my last regret.
Writer/s: Title Fight