Wildlife has a way of returning to the forest once it's been burnt to the ground The death and decay are cleansed this way And life vindicates itself of the indignities it has suffered It is this perfect symmetry This cyclical harmony that nature is blessed with Fell short, the night you burned my house down in departure November of last year, you were crying and screaming on the sidewalk And this November I didn't sleep a single night The floor is littered with garbage and clothes I'll never wash again And the shower I passed out in, let the washing machine turn the water cold to wake me up I couldn't stand to touch the surfaces anymore They can't ever be cleansed I can't scrape you off the floor, or the shower The couch, or the insides of my eyes And the bed, where you told me to never forget Maybe I'll crash my car again, maybe you'll come home There's an apartment in the city I always imagined And it's a real place, I'm sure I'll probably never see it With your clothes and mine on the floor While you're making breakfast, humming and smiling absently And I have the first cigarette of a new day Light streams in the blinds and cuts the room in half And I always imagined that being there Would make me realize that it feels **** good to be alive sometimes The winter is coming back now I wake up uneasy in a haunted house And last week I saw your mother Buying groceries She told me to take care of you, once And she smiled sadly at me and gave a small wave Some days it gets easier Some days I collapse entirely Some days I think I should burn my house down Literally this time I've had enough of metaphors and cliches For a lifetime, at least