| You’ve been bedding with the down and below
|
| On your toes peering out of the hole
|
| The void offers sweet release
|
| And always the thought of defeat it has lessened you
|
| Mortar and bricks have cut off your air
|
| And always the fire that burns deep and down within you
|
| Has left you so afraid of love
|
| The things you don’t say have weighed without wait
|
| Impatient and persistent, not fleeting, not for a moment
|
| When it seems like all you’re made to do is suffer
|
| You’ll be pleased to know that miracles do occur
|
| You never chose this
|
| This place you don’t fit
|
| You’re just misplaced
|
| A pet with no trick
|
| A wreck
|
| Broken in need of a fix
|
| And always the feeling of failure has trailed you
|
| Nothing you’ve tried keeps the vultures at bay
|
| So restless and weary, you desperately struggle
|
| But it’s all to no avail
|
| The mirror of mirth lies shattered in pieces
|
| So long to the image, now you’ll never see it
|
| And the leaden ball that’s been chained to your ankle
|
| Has kept you running in circles
|
| You never chose this
|
| This place you don’t fit
|
| You’re just misplaced
|
| A pet with no trick
|
| A wreck
|
| Broken in need of a fix
|
| How numb have you become?
|
| Now that you’ve lost all connection
|
| Your bottle’s filled up to the brim
|
| Who will be left to clean the spill?
|
| And when your breaking point pierces the surface tension
|
| You’re sure to overflow all at once
|
| And see how brittle becomes you
|
| And there is no escaping this
|
| All of the memories haunt your flesh
|
| There is no trace of the events
|
| Only the ones you recollect
|
| Relax and arrest the arrhythmia within your chest
|
| The bells toll not for your atonement
|
| And you can’t make them stop
|
| And always the thought of defeat it has lessened you
|
| Mortar and bricks have cut off your air
|
| And always the fire that burns deep and down within you
|
| Has left you so afraid of love
|
| And the things you don’t say have weighed without wait
|
| Impatient and persistent, not fleeting, not for a moment
|
| When it seems like all you’re made to do is suffer
|
| You’ll be pleased to know that miracles do occur |