I don’t remember what it feels like to let you go
And now I’m here again.
It’s kind of familiar
Like a repressed memory.

The longing is straining,
As the let go grim reaper doesn’t knock anymore.
Instead grim got tired and bled through the walls
She says, it’s time to go.

She’s holding my hand
I’m mad and grip her with my nails
But I’m holding her too
It’s time to go.