If you look at him and all he's done
and you look at me and I am numb

and I look at how I like to see
myself in you and you in me

then I wonder how we've softened up
and [bad word] it were is buttercup

something got my throat and your head it seems
it's not in you and it's not in me

it's my blood (there's nothing there to hold between)
it's my blood (what is there and what is seen)
just my blood (there's nothing there to hold in me)
my blood

if we started up with not enough
then I look at when we'll not be rough
but we started rough and you turn away
from the thing that looks upon your face

say I'm what I seem to be
and we left with something torn between
a moment's love can be forgot
but a moment's pain stains our cuff

it's my blood (there's nothing there to hold between)
it's my blood (what is there and what is seen)
just my blood (there's nothing there to hold in me)
my blood