Someone asked me today why I don’t have any tattoos.
I said I do but I don’t wear them on the outside like you do.
My tattoos lie inside my heart as every painful loving scar.
They may not show on the outside of my skin but
You can see them looking in.
You can see them looking in.
Take a trip inside my heart to see I’ve got plenty of markings.
Just like yours they tend to fade but show the marks of every blade.
What memory will you represent on my scarred up heart?
Show me what need there is to pretend I’m not torn apart.
Sure I bleed with each anew and still crave the next one too.
Why is it that designs meant to last forever fade
Almost imediatly after they are made?
Almost imediatly after they are made?
Through my many lovers, inspirations and lost-friends
I’ve been given tattoos on the inside to mend.
Like yours, every tattoo is a mark of who I am,
Who I loved and where I’ve been.
Who I loved and where I’ve been.
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