Calloused Testo

Testo Calloused

You’re calloused, but you don’t even know
I’m picking at my scabs.
I’ll let all the bruises show.

I’ll never forget what all these feelings meant.
Flying home for a funeral was my last regret.

I hear a telephone three thousand miles from home.
Do you really care?
Your heart is just a stone.


I’ll never forget what all these feelings meant.
Flying home for a funeral was my last regret.