Self-analysis, in the middle of the night again Replay each second now Evidences, hands are red It's hard to see reason when you're blinded by the gaslight I still question whether my life is right Maybe I do better on my own Maybe I've avoided that for a while Maybe the time has come to stop Always putting myself on trial Maybe I should put it all out my mind It's possible that you were never really mine At all At all At all At all Night falls again I feel the past that holds me By the wrist, by the neck The phantom pain never leaves me I wake again Tangled in tattered sheets I resent myself for feeling so incomplete Maybe I do better on my own Maybe I've avoided that for a while Maybe the time has come to stop Always putting myself on trial Maybe I should put it all out my mind It's possible that you were never really mine At all At all At all At all