There are needles in my lips,
Sealing them shut,
Making sure I do not speak,
But I don't really need them there,
They have been sealed shut,
By your lies,
Your cruel words,
The things you say,
To make you feel so high...

My heart is closed,
And sometimes I wonder,
If it is sealed also,
But whoever did the sewing,
Did a damn bad job,
Because it leaks,
And I keep finding
Blood on my clothes...

I found the needle last night,
And I pulled it out,
But another took its place,
And my lips are still,
Sealed shut...
I tried to speak,
I really did,
But not a word came out,
Not a single sound-

I like the quiet,
I love the dark,
I love it when
We are apart...
I don't have to hear you then,
But when I look down,
I see ruddy drops again...

I wish that damn seamstress,
Would return,
I'd make her do a better job,
I don't mind the thread,
The stitches are fine,
But that damn needle,
Is plaguing my mind...