Start over, try again; how in all hell could you ever leave me? There is no one else. There are so many others yet you refuse to acknowledge them, seeing only what you want. Stuck; you are at such a great and mighty standstill. You are trapped in trenches you cannot climb out of, you insist.
When you pull away, I walk to you. You drive further and I come running. You hold me and I am pressed against love, later cringing, later pushing. I stand opposite you, six layers of fabric, an arm's length away, this is as close as you get -- you follow, innocent.
In a dimly lit room: you think you can save me. You stand fuming unable to pull me from myself, just as I cannot steal the cigarettes from your back pocket. How dare you think me so easy. You tie my ankles to your bedposts with your brother's belts; I allow it. I look at you. You watch as I deteriorate; you burn all the smokes with which you care for me. I watch in horror. You watch in horror.
You think I am pure. I know I am broken, cracked the secret soul stitched shut: healing. You think I am pure. You walk behind me but I am walking toward you. We go in circles, yin and yang, the darkness and light -- the snake of the world devouring its tail -- we will never rest until someone says enough.
You think I am pure. I know I am broken, cracked the secret soul stitched shut: healing. You think I am pure. You walk behind me but I am walking toward you. We go in circles, yin and yang, the darkness and light -- the snake of the world devouring its tail -- we will never rest until someone says enough.
