I’ve been treated so wrong, I’ve been treated so long
As if I’m becoming untouchable

They say that promises sweeten the blow
But I don’t need them, no, I don’t need them

I’ve been treated so wrong, I’ve been treated so long
As if I’m becoming untouchable

I’m a slow dying flower, I’m the frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour and untouchable

I need this…

Do you remember the way that you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness I loved and adored?

Your face saving promises whispered like prayers
I don’t need them, no, I don’t need them

I need the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness
I need this…

I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight
Angel sweet, love of my life
O, I need this…

You better shut your mouth
Hold your breath
Kiss me now you’ll catch my death
O, I mean it…