Broken - Enchant

Not what I’ve done, not what I’ve spoken

Not what I’ve shown, not that I lied

Just holding on would render me broken

But weak as I am, my hands remain tied

Fear of wrath, fear of pain

Fear of facing what I am

Fear this might leave a stain

Of your blood on my hands

My face is scarred, my hands unclean

Can’t wash away the fool I’ve been

Murder one or suicide:

Which would be the greater sin?

Straining to hold each breath I’m taking

A shackle that pulls, I can’t set it free

Not quite below, but slowly I’m breaking

In saving you I would be killing me

Fear of wind, fear of rain

We built this house on shifting sand

Fear this might leave a stain

Of my own blood on my hands

My face is scarred, my hands unclean

Can’t wash away the fool I’ve been

Murder one or suicide:

Which would be the greater sin?

A wave that hits from behind me

A weight that pulls from beneath

A storm that blows all around me

A fear inside that has bound me