| «So while you’re fixing up your bed
|
| So while you’re organizing drawers
|
| Could you just listen to the problems had
|
| With problems of yours?
|
| And what’s that note you’re writing there?
|
| Why are you giving me this back?
|
| This was a gift from when we met
|
| Back when you weren’t so upset»
|
| I called in sick from your funeral
|
| The sight of your body made me feel uncomfortable
|
| I couldn’t recognize your shell
|
| Your branching off had met an end
|
| From all the weight that made you bend
|
| And when you tried to shed your leaves
|
| You pined for warmth as they said
|
| «Your lack of love for your dear self
|
| Is sapping all of us here out!
|
| Trace your roots back to the ground
|
| Work out the knotholes for yourself»
|
| I called in sick from your funeral
|
| The sight of your family made me feel responsible
|
| And I found the notes you left behind
|
| Little hints and helpless cries
|
| Desperate wishing to be over
|
| You said you’re trapped in your body
|
| And getting deeper every day
|
| They diagnosed you born that way
|
| They say it runs in your family
|
| A conscious erasure of working class background
|
| Where despair trickles down
|
| Imbalanced chemical crutch
|
| Open up, swallow down
|
| You said «Remember me for me
|
| I need to set my spirit free»
|
| I called in sick from your funeral
|
| (I called in sick, I called in sick)
|
| Tradition of closure nearly felt impossible
|
| (I called in sick, I called in sick)
|
| I should have never gave my word to you
|
| Not a cry, not a sound
|
| Might have learned how to swim
|
| But never taught how to drown
|
| You said «Remember me for me»
|
| I watched you set your spirit free |