| Will the memory | |||
| Ever | |||
| Fade | |||
| Learn that a | |||
| Touch doesn't | |||
| Always mean | |||
| Pain | |||
| So much of what I've | |||
| Found so | |||
| Far | |||
| Leading me to | |||
| Believe there's | |||
| No hope for | |||
| Love | |||
| Another | |||
| Antique | |||
| Relic | |||
| Waiting to be buried | |||
| Along with the | |||
| Rest of the | |||
| Garbage | |||
| Can the cuts | |||
| Ever | |||
| Heal | |||
| Will the cynicism | |||
| Sarcasm | |||
| Ever fade | |||
| Away | |||
| Will I ever let | |||
| Love | |||
| Touch me | |||
| Carried away again by the | |||
| Moment | |||
| Wrapped up in an | |||
| Embrace | |||