| Hung on a hook, I’m a mirror
|
| Cracked down the center, I split you
|
| Counting the clouds in a storm behind your eyes
|
| Show you the face of a man who
|
| Not that he wants but he has to
|
| Look at the thing he’s become, what I see
|
| I’m caught in a still life with no frame
|
| Sometimes people do, the world, it don’t change
|
| Give up awaiting someday
|
| Future between a gun and your head
|
| Pieces of me on a tile floor
|
| Look up at you as you change more
|
| Floating in fear, I appear a hundred times
|
| Hold a reflection inside me
|
| I cannot feel you are empty
|
| Throw me away
|
| I am broken, not your time
|
| I’m caught in a still life with no frame
|
| Sometimes people do, the world, it don’t change
|
| Give up awaiting someday
|
| Future between a gun and your head
|
| Not going to save you
|
| Perform euthanasia |