I want to cover myself in the sheets of the bed / the same sheets that my father brought me home from the hospital in / I can feel the oil of his hands in the cloth when I breathe / but in the end the smell turns to ammonia and incense / I picture his face in the coffin / I’m down on my knees If there’s a god don’t take him please I’m chipping off rust from the cogs in my hands / while a clash record plays in the living room / the angry brits shout their demands / the necklace you made me on the jewelry case reflects the sunrise of the window’s light / and I hate myself and I hate my body and I hate and hate with all of my might If there’s a god make me alright The dust in the air and the morning sun / hangs in front of me like an omen come / to destroy my willpower with the force of a gun / my demons relax cause they have already won