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letra de the knife - dead calm

i wanted to give you the best of me
but when that wasn’t enough
you began unraveling my love like a tangled shoelace
like something that needed correcting
your lap became my operating table as you
dissect every bit of kindness and goodness
until i was a bl–dy mess in your lap
i wonder why my hands are stained red and yours are clean
i don’t think it will wash out and i don’t think
you’ll want to hold my hand anymore
you tell me i complain too much as i gasp for air
you say i’m too negative as you cover my mouth with your hand
you can trick yourself into thinking you’re still a good man
but i can’t breathe, you can

i feel you reach in me, rearranging
organizing, correcting, taking
i don’t like it, but if it’s what you want i’ll live
with it in the hope that one day it will be exchanging
i’ll paint you a triptych when you’re done
i’m not an artist but i could be for you
i’m not a poet but you’re still my muse
i’d do anything, i wonder if you knew
but i can’t get up now you’re gone, so i guess
i’m not an artist and i’ll never be a poet and i
think i did too much
you’re done so go clean your knife
i’m not what you want and i’m not who i was

- dead calm

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