In a chalk dotted line 
Draw a kid, left behind 
Severed limbs in harmony  [bad word] from a few good deeds

Carry it to survive 
To a bed half alive 
Held before a dozen times 
Deep inside a funeral for a friend [bad word] in portions like film [bad word]  run [bad word] the list 
The memoirist 
Like kindling 
Burn, burn, burn, burn down

I will stay inside 
The saved 
It's a good mourning 
They will ignite you 
The doomed
I will write for you 

Of a boy, damaged goods 
Of a bench, understood 
For a spell, the soul resides 
In a yellow chalk outline

Carry on the camel's back 
Have another heart attack 
To the cure I would drive 
Played that scene a hundred times to date

Today's ambition, to relate 
In a sustaining saccharine state 
Impart the burden and get well 
It's what everyone's trying to sell

Anything you want to be
Weigh the screenplay and revise 
Warp, warp, warp with the contortionist 
So hopelessly ill-fated everyday

He will stay inside
The doomed
It's a good mourning to loom 
They will inspire him 
The saved Innocently filling graves