Bleeding - Sixpence None The Richer

Deep inside the darkest night

Is drinking in the light

From pinholes pricked

Holy needles knicked

In a canopy of white

I’m alone, I’m alone

And I’m beating my soul to make it bleed a drop of hope

Then I’ll drink it up in a golden cup and let it grow inside

And I fear that you’ve gone away

But you must be somewhere near

The fire fades so the deepest shades

Slowly trickle down the wall

In a room I hide will I come outside

And have some kind of fall

All my words, all my words