You can't get blood from a stone
But you can get it from my arm
I carved your name with a razor blade
But I don't mean you any harm

All my friends are imaginary
I see right through them

At night I like to catch fireflies
And I keep them in a jar
I close the lid tight and smother them
So they won't get very far

You can't get blood from a stone
But you can get it from my arm
A hundred million razor blades
Couldn't do me any harm

All my friends are imaginary
I see right through them. . . .

Composição: Splitsville