I heard that there's a place where the criminals go
At least the one's who've been caught
It's as dark as this place that I'm at, but a lot more real
Where the people come and go every day
But the scars never seem to heal
And their faces bear the lines of all the tired nights
The moon's looking down at the earth
And I'm wondering why she looks so sad
Cracked like a vase on an antique table
Thick as the pain in your beautiful face
I know they have you behind bars
The voices in your head are screaming
And I can hear it now; It's all too real
But don't cry dear, it's not worth another restless night
Of sickness and misery
Just let my tattered songs sing you to sleep
They're not much but they're all that I've got
The moon's looking down at the earth
And I'm wondering why she looks so sad
Cracked like a vase on an antique table
Thick as the pain in your beautiful face
The moon's hidden behind a cloud
And I'm screaming, "Why do you always leave?"
I've become an antique table
Left here to hold this beautiful vase
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