Pick myself off the floor and fight another day.
 The day that you walked out my door, I tried to stay sane,
 But the day [bad word] when I lose my heart and I lose my faith.
 When the bitter taste of the sour grapes will remind me of.

 Sweet misery.
 Sweet misery.
 Cold and Empty.
 Sweet misery.

 I’ll bottle up my pain, swallow a pint of pride.
 Her poison warms me with regret, and I can’t hide.
 That my head cries out while my heart looks in for a little faith.
 But the last remains of this sinful saint are memories of… Sweet misery.

 Sweet misery.
 Her pain reminds me I’m still living.
 Sweet misery.
 But how much do I have to give

 ‘Cause the day [bad word]  I’ve lost my heart and, I’m losing faith.
 And the bitter taste of the sour grapes it reminds me of
 Sweet misery.