These troubled times and concord grapes are no medicine to my soul.
I am electric, so just shut me down and let me go.
Static lines my headboard and I'm sure that I can't breathe,
But I forever feel my heart skip a beat.

I am elastic like tombstone words that nobody lives by,
Bruises on flawless knees and the killer that drowns you in the river,
But above all else, I swear to never let you down—
Even as I hold epilepsy like cancer in these arms
And stays as the one thing I can never quite understand,
Even as I remain wounded like pigeon wings.

There is nothing here, and may you fear it all;
But I swear on my dear and sick stomach never to let you down.