| If you were here with me |
| You’d know how your love stains |
| I got ink all on my fingers |
| From words I can’t explain |
| This solitary life is turnin' me about |
| My thoughts they all seem tainted |
| And the stains they won’t come out |
| Been too long inside a colour that was fast |
| Now the dye 's run out, stainin' up my past |
| It’s not too late |
| T' put this heart of mine in some shape |
| Come and wash away this heartache, and pain |
| Don’t let it stain |
| If you were here with me |
| You’d know your love still stains |
| Traces of your make-up |
| Pillow cases, eyebrow crayons |
| Broken glasses, cryin' tears and fingers bled |
| Down upon the carpet where the green turned into red |
| It’s been too long inside a house that’s full o' you |
| With nothin' left to show — memories seeping through |
| It’s not too late |
| T' put this heart of mine in some shape |
| Come and wash away this heartache, and pain |
| Don’t let it stain |
| Walkin' aimlessly from room to room |
| Where the air is stained with your perfume |
| Pictures on the wall |
| Seem to shine no more |
| And the colours are no longer true |
| It’s not too late |
| T' put this heart of mine in some shape |
| Come and wash away this heartache, and pain |
| Don’t let it stain |
| It’s not too late |
| T' put this heart of mine in some shape |
| Come and wash away this heartache, and pain |
| Don’t let it stain |
| (Repeat and fade) |