Deaden The Sound

The pain

It hurts

It's coming

In spurts

Deaden the sound

Of the music that plays

When all you want to do

Is dream about frays

Deaden the sound

Of your own mind

Like a think rope

It's one big bind

Deaden the sound

Of the lights in the room

Or of the sound

Of the ever-sweeping broom

The pain

It hurts

It's coming

In spurts