Salt-Water Rain and Acid Baths

What makes good days turn to pain?
What's the story?
What's the deal?
I thought you liked watching it rain.
Pour down on me, pull me under...
Salty thoughts you've brought upon me.
If the wounds sting just a little,
pour salt on the piece most brittle...
I promise you they heal.
When they scar, how they'll remind me,
of the times you say you love me,
until then, however, love,
if the wounds sting just a little,
pour salt on the piece most brittle...
I promise you they heal.
I don't care that you have cut me,
those incisions never killed me,
as it does when salt pours on me.
This time, though, I say it sadly,
You were not the one to gouge me,
you're the salt raining down on me.