бессонной она была по другой банальной причине - боль физическая на время отодвинула возможную душевную. Но почему-то, когда боль стала не такой сильной в свете дня и найденного обезбаливающего, она наоборот напомнила...

Надо почитать историю написания этой песни... Как гимн исчезнувшим чувствам??? нет, не исчезнувшим, умерающим или умершим, потому, что он пишет о живущей памяти... Как я когда-то, еще совсем маленькая писала "Счастлив будь, вслед умершей любви". О, как готично и депрессивно)))

Единственное, во что я не хочу верить... Так это в то, что это может быть моим... Нашим гимном. Станиславский во мне проснулся. "НЕ верю"... Но хэппи энд всегда оставляет чувство незавершенности...

My mouth was a crib
And it was growing lies
I didn't know what love was on that day
Her heart's a tiny blood clot
I picked at it, it never heals, it never goes away

Burn all the good things in the eden eye
We were too dumb to run, too dead to die
Burn all the good things in the eden eye
We were too dumb to run, too dead to die

This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay
This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay

I would've told her then
She was the only thing
That I could love, in this dying world
But the simple word, of love itself
Already died and went away

This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay
This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay

Burn all the good things in the eden eye
We were too dumb to run, too dead to die
Burn all the good things in the eden eye
We were too dumb to run, too dead to die

This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay
This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay
This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay
This was never my world
You took the angel away
I killed myself to make everybody pay

Our heart's a bloodstained egg
We didn't handle with care
It's broken and bleeding
And we could never repair
Our heart's a bloodstained egg
We didn't handle with care
It's broken and bleeding
And we could never repair

And we can never repair