i never want to see you
in the raw and searing flesh
i don't ever want to hear you
singing softly to the dead
i never want to feel your skin [bad word] warm along my side
i don't ever want to sink that way again
it would be easier to die
to die

i'm tending the pyres of my [bad word] 
burning leaves on buried dreams
kneeling in to rake the ashes
i'm embering. you're smoldered out.
my hands are free,
my lungs are proud
your forgiveness is a fading fiction
your forgiveness is a fading fiction
these flames have never burned so high
i won't be staring in your eyes

i'm trying hard not to remember
the way the smoke drifts through the air
we'll all be [bad word] november
four months out of every year
every year
(every year)

i won't be staring in your eyes
every year