You always hanged around me,
like a loose string on a sweater,
pulling and pulling the string out.
To only find a giant hole in the sweater.
A giant hole, you crawled inside,
because, under the bed, under the
covers weren't enough to hide
from the demons and those scars.
So you'd wear these sweaters,
that's old and has holes in it.
So you can hold onto the strings,
of your old sweater, to feel safe.
Because it was always my sweater.
'Cause you wanted to hold onto me,
as I laid 10 feet under the ground,
buried in a coffin.
So you wore my sweater, to know,
I'm there for you.