I’ve found there’s no [bad word] in the written word,
Let alone imprinted on the soul,
All the lies and [bad word] that I have heard
Romantically I swallowed whole,
There is one conclusion to the issue
That I have been forced to conceive-
I alone wear my heart upon my sleeve.

Too late the tears will flood in mourning time
And douse the searing heat of [bad word] life,
The fires they burn tonight but not for me,
For I am drowning in my psyche’s depths,
For I am drowning, drowning in the dark.

Silhouette souls play upon the tapestry,
My arms reach out, their temptation looms,
They flit from place to place, never to stay,
I can’t see them following me to my tomb,
They leave me far too soon, subdued and lost,
Headlong flight cannot exorcise these ghosts,
Nor can I stand up to them on my own.

Too late the tears will flood in mourning time
And douse the searing heat of [bad word] life,
The fires they burn tonight but not for me,
For I am drowning in my psyche’s depths,
For I am drowning, drowning in the dark.

How can I mourn, how can I mourn,
When the tears won’t fall?
How can I keep my head above the roaring sea
When I nothing onto which to hold.

Too late the tears will flood in mourning time
And douse the searing heat of [bad word] life,
The fires they burn tonight but not for me,
For I am drowning in my psyche’s depths,
For I am drowning, drowning in the dark.