I´ve drunk too much, to belong to you
feel so much older, but I´m only 22
she said she was an artist when I met her on the street
she sleeps right through the afternoon and throws up on the sheet

she took me to a hotel where she watched the evenings end
cried into her coffee swearing she was on a mend

two tortured souls digging a hole, when we need to cry
I wish I had your heart instead of mine, instead of mine

I took a nightbus down to the park
I climbed over the gate and then I ran into the dark
he said he was an artist on his bench under a tree
he said he liked to see the stars but not on nights like these

two tortured souls digging a hole, when we need to cry

I wish I had your heart instead of mine, instead of mine

I´ve drunk too much to belong to you
I look up all the people to help me make it through
everyone is an artist, and they´ve all got things to say
they know the words to say it all, but just not what to say

just as night follows day, everything alive falls into decay
that´s why I wish I had your heart, instead of mine
yes, I wish I had your heart instead of mine