I'd rather have
Manchester orchestraThe conversation's colors paint themselves on canvas
White lies and motivation were standing out so honestly
I'm surprised it didn't hurt your eyes
I think that 'I' is the only word in your vocabulary tonight
Those same brown eyes stare straight ahead
And I shut my hand in your door
And I looked around, for a lifeline
Well I would rather have a broken arm
Than have my arms around you
Well I would rather have a broken arm
Than have my arms around you
It took a minute or two to gather all of my neurotic thoughts
Before I started to talk way to loud, loudly I thought to myself
God, how do I find myself here again and again?
My same black eyes stared straight ahead
As I took my time with a cigarette
There, enough, I'm still in love with the false hope of us
Stabbed inside my chest
Let me tell you, all about it.
Because I would rather have a punctured lung
Than waste my breath on you
Because I would rather have a punctured lung
Than waste my breath on you
Although, my dear:
I would rather have a broken heart
Than give up hope on you
Well I would rather have a broken heart
Than give up hope on you
We've got all the time that we need.