I'm walking on this rope
this strange strange rope
with blue faces and ties and promises
that will never last

and I can't remember if it was
someone else
or me
who said I would get better, it's just a phase

If I knew that
turning the lights off
would make everything so clear
I would've slept with them on

such a strange rope this is
am I growing up?
is everyone else growing up?
Has anything changed, or was this how it always was?

clouds and gray used to bring me down
but they always pulled me up
they always pulled me up
and I can't see it anymore

All I can do is hope that she lives
that she lives
and if she doesn't
I won't be scared enough of death to stop holding her dead body
Like I was the last 3 times.
So scared of putting them in their coffins
crying just looking at the green in their skin
feeling the softness of death on my fingertips

like a thousand babies
in a velvet room
rounded corners and no clocks
that was what death felt like

so much innocence and purity
that it scared me
to think that
I could become it once more.