Here, it hurts here,
where I'm supposed to
face big rolling rocks
as if I've got me a helmet
and iron fists.
This part, it hurts here,
where I'm supposed to
hand-pick gentle puffs of air,
not be smothered in smokes
that choke me up to see clearly.
Way up here, it hurts here,
where instead I try to get away
inwardly, far, far away,
towards nowhere,
rather than out.