Pouring Water On a Drowning Man

Pouring Water On A Drowning Man By Shericka Murphy I try to do just what I can To look at him and see a man... As I boil my anger in a frying pan Pouring it on a drowning man. And Im just as sick as I can be And Im hurting here as he can see And I boil my anger in the sea And I pour it on the man drowning in me. He's falling like the tears from my chin He's feeling the feelings that I carry within... And I watched him try and break my heart again, And I watched him as he drowned in sin. And the aching I feel from the hole in his heart, Is just like my body is ripping apart When you feel like this you don't know where to start What does it feel like to drown in the devils art? What does it feel like to to treat me like I don't live? After all of the love and the body I give I mean I feel pierced in the heart with a shiv How does it feel to not drown in the love I give? To go under in hatred that I have steamed, To leave your world in ways that you would've never dreamed To find out that I am not as weak as I seemed... And the sparkle in your eye has not once gleamed... But the light from me to you had always beamed. And when I saw me pouring water on a drowning man... The very same water that was my anger in a frying pan, My eyes told me that I'd done all that I can.. Because the more I saw him....The less he was a man....