In Your Hands
This ain't gonna work out . . .
I can already see it now . . .
Go 'head --- kick me out my own house,
Stab me repeatedly in my heart 'til it blows out.
Man, the amount of ache on the floor --- oh, wow.
But at least the pain then might die down.
Or maybe it'll just inflate,
And I'll be even more in pain,
Feelin' even more intense aches.
Someone asks, "How you doin' today?",
I'll reply with a smile that's just so fake,
"Yeah, man, I'm doin' just great!"
But really, I'd be about to break
Into two pieces, like Michigan state.
Love can just as easily turn into hate.
I say, just leave it up to fate.
Put it on the grill, look at what's at stake.
Despite the steak, if I lose you, I swear I'll emaciate.
To this pain, I'm nothin' but a slave.
Help me escape, emancipate
Me. Never mind; no matter what I do,
It just won't go away.
No, I don't blame you.
No, I don't hate you.
But, man, how much I love you,
How much I trust you.
Darlin', I'd put my life in your hands anyday.
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