Bitter
Ivo Watts-Russell / John Fryer
The half-moon is aching, bitter and sad
We are wet. We are stripped to the bone
It's out of our hands, the dream we're bound to dream
We are wet, always alone
How many ways can you say goodbye?
That was nothing
Something
How many days were in dreaming?
In many ways, just a lie
In better days I'd be dreaming
As my life passed me by
Now pardon me for trying
Trying to tear apart
And pardon me for lying
It's just easy, so easy, to start