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My father has heart trouble,
He love those who hurt him most,
But me, I already have double,
Feeling symptoms, prior to diagnosed.

Me, loving you is killing me…
Slowly, Slowly,
Killing me-
With this heart of mine,
I am dying in my sleep.

My mother's was ruthless,
She smirked to eases she languished;
In my case, it is useless,
I smile when I'm filled with anguish.

Me, loving you is killing me…
Slowly, slowly,
Killing me-
With this heart of mine,
I am dying in my sleep.

Maybe it is hereditary,
Maybe it is just a myth;
I only know what feel,
And who I feel it with.

Maybe I am hopeless,
Maybe I am flat-out crazy,
But that doesn't pull sureties
From out a simple maybe.

…with this heart of mine,
I am dying in my sleep.