The Bed We Made
© 2007. Words + music by Siuan McGahan
Running round in circles and running out of time;
running from my certainty or demons in your mind.
I don't know what you want from me, you don't know what is mine.
I don't take to your apathy, your sacrificial line.
Counting the days, counting complaints,
counting the ways we ask for change:
how we forsake and we delay.
We lie awake in the bed that we made.
Pulling from my revelry and crossing every line.
You don't know what you do to me, but do it every time.
I don't jive with your sophistry, the words that you unwind:
unraveling the tapestry, my weakness left behind.
Counting the days, counting complaints,
counting the ways we ask for change:
how we forsake and we delay.
We lie awake in the bed that we made.
I wish that you would hurt me, I wish you'd yell or scream.
I wish that you would make me cry or just do something mean,
but there's nothing wrong with you, you're just wrong for me.
What I wish you would do, is make it easier to leave.
Counting the days, counting complaints,
counting the ways we ask for change:
how we forsake and we delay.
We lie awake in the bed that we made.
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