Don’t look at me like that
As if you’re amusing a child.
You hold my face with those cold fingertips
When I’ve carved out my heart so neatly
And laid it bare, in your palms so naively.
Why did I ever entertain that thought?
Don’t look at me like that
As if you’re amusing a child.
You hold my face with those cold fingertips
When I’ve carved out my heart so neatly
And laid it bare, in your palms so naively.
Why did I ever entertain that thought?