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Crushing
Cheating
Changing

Am I deaf or dead?
Is this constricting construction
Or just streets with rusty signs
Of something violent
Coming?

This will hurt you
Worse than me
I’m weak
7 days a week
Don’t run from me
I won’t bother
Counting 1, 2, 3

I don’t know which me that I love
I’ve got no reflection
I don’t know which me that I love
I’ve got no reflection

I can show myself
How to make a noose
A gun’s cliche
And a razor too
I’m not a death-trip vacation
Vacant station
Made of scars
And filled with my old wounds

You
You don’t even want to know
What I’m going to do to you
You don’t even want to know
What I’m going to do to you

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