THE CLASSIC CRIME LYRICS

"Driftwood"

Every whisper is a gunshot
In a crowded terminal
Every cry for help so quiet
It is barely audible
Every callous numbing feeling
Gets invited to the bar
Instead of salt on all your wounds
You pour well whiskey on your scars

But you're not hard
And no one sees who you are
So you ward off the drunken stares
At last call

But you've got what I want

Driftwood
Call me a name if it feels good
I'll be the break where your ache has stood
All of your failures are widowers
But I'm still right here

And you're not hard
I can see who you are
I'll work hard
To bring you back to the start

You've got what I want

As the driftwood whittles down
You see the beauty that it had
Carried through the open ocean
'Til it finely reached the sand
Where I came upon it's sadness
Saw the glory it contained
You let me cut you slowly
Until only you remained

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