If something said could serve as thread to her wound,
I'd commit to it.
I'd tell my tongue to tell of it until it broke my jaw,
Until she saw...
That from the bottles we break,
Her reflections make.
In this sea of glass, will she see at last the girl I've seen all along?
Such beauty, a prize.
She's closed her own eyes to such value.
A truth, a truth.

If something said could serve as thread to her wound,
I'd commit to it.
I'd tell my tongue to tell of it until it broke my jaw,
Until she saw...
That from the bottles we break,
Her reflections make.
In this sea of glass, will she see at last the girl I've seen all along?
Such beauty, a prize.
She's closed her own eyes to such value.
A truth, a truth.

I'm just another addict with a different kind of needle in my arm.
Another bottle in my hand
Brings a thought to understand that we're all drunk,
Walking the narrowest white lines ever drawn,
Going further than we've ever gone.

I'm just another addict with a different kind of needle in my arm.
Another bottle in my hand
Brings a thought to understand that we're all drunk,
Walking the narrowest white lines ever drawn,
Going further than we've ever gone.

We fall just to feel recovery.
We stumble into something sobering.
I've found it overflowing from the cup of God!

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