Tác giả : Bjork
Người đăng : administrator, 14 năm trước
Darling, stop confusing me, 
With your wishful thinking. 
Hopeful embraces, 
Don't you understand? 
I have to go through this, 
I belong to here where no-one cares, 
And no-one loves. 
No light no air to live in, 
A place called hate, 
The city of fear. 
 
I play dead, 
It stops the hurting. 
I play dead, 
And the hurting stops. 
 
It's sometimes just like sleeping, 
Curling up inside my private tortures. 
I nestle into pain, 
Hug suffering, 
Caress every ache 
 
I play dead, it stops the hurting.