Oh what a temporary fix
Hardly sufficient
For such a gaping wound
Oh what a temporary lover
Careful not to scratch the surface
Or expose what’s killing you

‘Cause it’s too late to run away
There’s so much to lose too much at stake
I’m not through
Not through with you

Oh what a monumental part
You try to warm your cold, cold heart
With one foot in the grave

Oh what momentary pleasure
That cuts too deep to measure
With both hands on the blade


Written by Amanda J. Whitlock © 2008 Photon Music (BMI). All Rights Reserved.