Sympathy - High hopes

Stop t-t-talking to him,

No worries darling it’s down to science,

I st-st-stutter the words that I said,

At least I meant it, it’s more then I’d say for him.

I’ll be the story for sympathy,

From all your friends,

You play the part of the scar,

That I can’t forget,

You have your alcohol,

And his attention,

I’ve got these songs, worn out lungs,

My attempt at tourniquets.

I’m t-t-trying to sleep,

You’re holding his hands,

I’m holding grudges,

S-s-smile medusa,

You got your own song,

I am carved out of stone.