NIGHTMORSS - SECRET

Sinking, so sick of thinking
Of all the things you need from me
Who you think that I should be?
Itching to feel you with me
But I can't do that to myself
Touch so soft but words that kill

I wanna look past it, 'cause you're such a habit
But I'm made out of glass and
Some wounds you just can lick
The crimes that you have committed
You hold them against me
No nights, without you I can't dream