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Manic Street Preachers
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The Sound Of Detachment
I'm holding a pistol against my head
I gouged my eyeballs out again
I am so pitiful and so pitiless
But still enraptured by this emptiness
By this emptiness
I feel as old as the Welsh hills that I love
And yet as empty as the sky above
I am as mournful as the stillness of the sea
I am so full of sorrow, can something set me free?
I cannot separate anything anymore
I have become something of a lost cause
I've used all my words and metaphors
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I am all messed up like never before
Like never before
I feel as old as the Welsh hills that I love
And yet as empty as the sky above
I am as mournful as the stillness of the sea
I am so full of sorrow, can something set me free?
I feel as old as the Welsh hills that I love
And yet as empty as the sky above
I am as mournful as the stillness of the sea
I am so full of sorrow, can something set me free?
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