Words are strong enough by themselves
But when they come from you
They are like Samson tearing down the roof of my mouth
When I try to whisper, to negate what I've said
Because now the feeling's dead
Is it my fault that my clock is set a little bit ahead?
I can't control the voices that are telling me
That no matter how close we are
There are always sharp edges
To press into me, to leave your scars