How can I tell you not to talk?
I'm gonna show you.

And when you see me, on the silver screen;
Or when you hear me, over the radio waves;
You're gonna melt.

And when you evaporate,
And you take your new form in the air;
I'm gonna let you rain on me.

Cuz we're in this together.
And I won't have you walking around like that.
I would rather you be swallowed up
And made a small part of everything that's wonderful.

Save your voice for singing.

and i wonder when they'll realise
that there is a reason why
i am always three threads shy
from falling apart.

I see how white light startles.
I snapped a pic and she spun in circles.
She wanted a photograph
to cover her mother's epitaph,
so she could have a laugh.

She smoked to get away -
but this isn't what'd she say,
exhaling, "All we are is carbon
and a lack of empathy."

We blended into hues of
microwave dinners
and church alters.
I used to tell her to go
just to halt her.

We prayed to get away -
but that's not what we'd say,
whispering, "Help us be more
than carbon and a lack of empathy."