You really made a mess of things, Really made a mess of me, Crafted over time, These messes of men. How could you think, It was all your own? Arrogant and alone. You were crafted over time, A mess of a man.
Christ! Let me out, Christ, Let me out, Confined to this, I’m nothing more A whimper, How can I defy this?
Eyes rolled back, Is this it? Shake and sweat, finished, Such weak things. I’m not, Not dealing very well, A defter hand, an ink well, You’re skin and bones, (skin and bones) Glass and parchment, Such a weak thing. In these weak hands, Weak hands.
Let me out, Christ, Confined to this, I’m nothing more A whimper, How can I defy this?
My vacant eyes, And yours are nothing but lids. Is this what I am? Afraid to confront myself, In your still hands, Still hands.