The Simple Story

Never mind all the blood on your arms
Never mind all the silent cries
Never mind the Earth spinning round and round
Never mind your rising truth

You cry
It's not what you call for
You cry
You thought it would happen before
You cry
You cry

Never mind the blood on your arms
Never mind all the silent cries
Although your wounds are rather small, rather small
You have all the sad stories

I'm spinning round and round and round again
I'm starting over and over and over and over again
I'm spinning round
I'm spinning round
I'm coming round, I'm coming round

You cry again
It's not what you call for
You cry again
You thought it would happen before
You cry again
You cry again