Can't you let me see my own reflection
I don't wanna be so hateful
Of this vengeful aggravation
Of which I'm not acquainted

Or at least I haven't seen it
Since 1 a.m. a few years back
That's the last time recollection
Serves me without lack

But this feeling of which I was once familiar
beats my cheaply painted willow door
In panic my conscience cowers
I pray the concrete hardens
The fear I feel's a flower
growing gashes in my garden