It's a slow poison
It's the sound of a certain cracking
That can't be placed to any specific memory
A sound so nostalgic and familiar
It's the sound that takes the place
Of laughter and lullaby
The sound is a million tiny cracks
In a broken mosaic glass
Like a spiderweb that holds
Every feeling of hurt in each tiny crevice
One day enough pressure will be applied
To completely shatter
Your fragile glass heart
And that cracking sound
Will be the last you hear