Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain.
If you cut me with a knife it's still the same.
And I know her heart is beating.
And I know that I am dead.
Yet the pain here that I feel.
Try and tell me it's not real.
For it seems that I still have a tear to shed.
If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain.
In the ice or in the sun it's all the same.
Yet I feel my heart is acheing.
Though it doesn't beat it's breaking.
And the pain here that I feel.
Try and tell me it's not real.
I know that I am dead.
Yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed.

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