Husked Depleted, maybe near death Tremble Gyrate, no energy left Slip Behind like salt over shoulder Fucked Language and countenance change "I make everything worse" "No you don't" "Please," I repeat, beg you "Do not go" Do you dwell outside my window, low? Small enough to live under the snow? But the snow forts they are gone The nostalgia, it is gone I'm a husk now, mostly gone, we knew this Gone - supermarket joy is gone Those two children have moved on If I fade out, play it on - you have to Get good at turning around before the road ends When he walked into the room And you said "Dad! How are you" And he pushed you to the wall He said "You're in my way" You would feel that way for life That's not something you forget Just a few words he'd regret Child ripped from play If a house could be alive Then it was that summer night When you got all of your things Out of his way As the road comes to an end So do words of broken men They can't keep you in the house You're raised in Raised in