The malignancy grows with fibrous insistence
 as the body wastes and rots.
 In the face of [bad word] 
 Death pulls at your sleeve 
 Your body writhes in anger 
 Your body writhes in joy 
 In the face of death 
 Spider in your ear 
 Mice at your heart 
 We can't deny the monstrous 
 Our flesh entwined 
 And grown together 
 now disentangles with all its pain 

 Disease remission
 Divine intervention

 I've been busy making my effigy
 And I suffer the hurt of a fragile strength 
 I won't open the wound delivered by weakness 
 I won't open the wound aware of its weakness 
 And be nothing but the weak... 

 In longing and in sorrow 
 The burden of effort and the weariness of [bad word] 
 We part in wordless staring tenderness. 
 With sores, scars, and crippled healing

 I will believe in you forever.