Sitting at my dining room table.
Surrounding by family and compassion.

All bleeding
             All hurting
                          All hopeless

Directed at my father.
The man with a heart
             Too big for his soul

So he poisons his body
             To poison his heart
                          To relieve his soul  

Of so much heart.

How can I judge?
I shut my heart off.
             With numbers
                          And logic
                                       And filth.

He lives with his heart.
Open and bleeding.

Begging for the poison
             To relieve his soul
                          Of too much heart