I Play Dead (Bjork)

at IKRA, =P Darling stop confusing me With your wishful thinking Hopeful embraces Don't you understand? I have to go through this I belong to here where No-one cares and no-one loves No light no air to live in A place called hate The city of fear I play dead It stops the hurting I play dead And the hurting stops It's sometimes just like sleeping Curling up inside my private tortures I nestle into pain Hug suffering aress every ache I play dead, It stops the hurting