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I give blood to prove to myself that I can matter to somebody else.
Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands?
Don't put your faith in the desert sand, because the wind is always blowing.
There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that's where I hung ambition.
Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984.
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
And I open my umbrella even when I am indoors.
Give me seven more.
I give blood not for the cause but to slowly give up the person I was.
Holding my breath won't help, everything went to hell
So now I steal back pennies from the well because my wishes failed
I am screaming at my own shadow to stop living like a ghost.
Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984.
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors.
Give me seven more.
I don't need her I'm not that desperate,
Come visit me in twenty years and maybe then.
Cause I'm not done screaming yet
You can call off the intervention, cause I don't need your attention!
Is it luck that's knocking right on my back door?
Because I've been breaking mirrors since 1984.
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors.
Give me seven more.
I don't need her I'm not that desperate!
I don't need her I'm not that desperate!
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