Polaroid pictures of youth 
Stretched across an empty room 
Holding on to what I miss 
I lost myself writing this 
The desperate youth tell themselves it isn’t forever 
But your tongue tastes bitter, and the stink is on your collar 
I gave up on life after giving up on help 
So I lie in a bed of scabs where I left myself 

Let my soul sing 
Let my spirit fly 
I wonder what you’re thinking now? 

Tell me who I was, I can’t accept what I’m [bad word] 
Survival was remembering, now survival is forgetting 
This face frightens me, this face frightens me 
My father was an irish gypsy traveller 
 [bad word] and kind in equal measures 
He used to say - 
“If man is meek, then meeker the man, often in which we punish, and sacrifice the lamb” 

Oh, anxiety 
you [bad word]  [bad word] lover, you keep [bad word] me 

Let my soul sing 
Let my spirit fly 
I wonder what you’re thinking now? 

It hurts that I’m nothing more than a memory 
Go rot with filth, just like me, just like me 

Let my soul sing 
Let my spirit fly 
I wonder what you’re thinking now?