You didn't come here to listen to me complain
But there are tendrils from my nightmares still embedded in my brain
I will stay quiet, air will stay heavy
And you will harbor a special hurt that I cannot take away
Doesn't matter if we're trembling
It's Spring, cold Spring
There's a lantern in each dark room
They're not for me
We're turning into all the wall art we put up
I am a weathered family backpack- you are Joseph's silver cup
Well in just a few more years you'll turn to Joseph's rainbow coat
I will be the brittle knife pressed into Joseph's prison throat
If you see me in the water
Am I gone? We'll see
You want to rid yourself of failure?
Let go of me
If the good times always end
Then the bad ones do - tell me they have to
When the medicine kicks in
Will the demons die, or are they just hiding underneath my skin?
Boiled until reduced to an enneagram report -
Or a sentence that has been repeatedly cut short
When the springtime comes again
Maybe things will change, maybe this love wanes
Doesn't matter if we're trembling
It's Spring, cold Spring
I see that someone's come to take you
Is there room for me?
No room for me