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There is a silver bullet.
Where my heart used to be.
Shining ever brightly.
Shining teasingly.

I sing and hear the echo,
Pulsing through my veins.
I sing and hear the echo.
Hear the echo.
Pulsing veins.

There is no longer shadow,
Where there is no dim part.
There only lies this bullet;
One bullet ends a start.

I sing and hear the echo,
Pulsing through my veins.
I sing and hear the echo.
Hear the echo.

I pick the stitches open,
Where my heart used to be.
I cannot feel the heartache.
I cannot even see.

I sing and hear the echo,
Pulsing through my veins.
I sing and hear the echo.

There is a silver bullet;
A lack of pumping blood.
I’ve lost control of thinking.
I’m lost inside this flood.

I sing and hear the echo,
Pulsing through my veins.

I gaze upon my footsteps.
It lies in its decay.
I pat my silver bullet.
Dear Heart, please go away.

I sing and hear the echo.

© Sylwia Wielgosz 2003.