When gentle hands turned to violent touch
When I now lay my eyes upon you, my stomach doesn't flutter
Now my breath heaves as over my heart I clutch;
This goes out to the words I never muttered.

Lost in my throat before they could escape my lips
Born in my mind, where they'll probably remain
Out of my mouth, where they'll never slip:
It's a lonely world inside my brain.

Touch like a mallet beating me from the inside
Cuts like canyons, out of which blood guttered
You were the storm that tore away my pride;
And to you, this goes out to the words I never muttered.