This is a long story, not enough space
To contemplate all the ways
You left yourself that day
Red on the floor, reds I've never seen before
There are clothes everywhere
Telephones, the loud propeller drones
Can he get out? Can he get out of here?
Can he get out? Can he get out of here?
Back at the clinic it smells like fire and then
I'm on the fence, bleach inside my mouth again
Would it have been easier for you to stay still inside that coffin bed
They tried to set you up, fix enough for waking dead
Don't you know by now
Love never knew what love was
Never had to call itself anything at all
Always it will remain
