If I could rip out my lungs here and now
to hear one last time sing like a songbird,
I would die just for that tune.

In debt, I still spend more heart than allowed
and if you're not in pain, why have I incurred
such a darkness under new moon.

But every river at last, must flow to an end
and while my heart bleeds out just like one,
there is nothing for you here.

Ramshackled veins, I feel each one of you rend
as I play pretend this will simply be done,
put to rest, not realize my fear.

You don't quite look like you as your eyes cloud
and like when you couldn't speak, I can't find words.
And all the sterile tools and the palest off-white room
could not make me immune
from the way the walls closed, like a casket. In on me too.