Be still my bleeding heart. For it is nothing new to you,

You've known there pain, and there pleasure.

You've tasted their sorrow, and their joy.

You've bathed in their despair, And in their hope.

And you've suffered in their death, as well as their life.

So Be Still,

Oh bleeding heart of mine, and bleed no longer;

For it is there turn to bleed

There's to know of pain and pleasure

There's to taste sorrow and joy

There's to bathe in despair and hope

And there's to suffer in death and life.

And do not think me as jaded or cruel, just tired.

Weary of this world and all its misfortunes,

My river of blood has long since run dry,

and I cannot bear another second of dry-heaving.

So for my sake please be still.