His nerves are tangled and he's wading through treacle
His thoughts are mangled, his brain matter is faecal
His limbs are made of lead, his digits are stiff
He wiggles his toes and gazes over the cliff
The waves crash below and a seagull squawks
He contemplates the drop and the fall on the rocks
He feels the sun on his face, the wind touches his cheek
It feels so comforting, when everything's so bleak
He takes a step forward and feels himself fall
He feels brave and free, a master of it all