Baby, it hurts seeing you like this And it hurts knowing I can’t do a thing about it But when you smell like sickness I'll still wash away the blood
You know I still talk to your mother While she's crying on the phone and I feel like dying I get scared of losing you So when all my fears come true
I'll see you at the wake But you won't see me, 'cause I'll be hiding back behind your family Keeping all my tears In a little glass bottle, God almighty, I won’t make it through the year Can I just make it through the year Can I just make it through the year, year, year?
