The boy is still a child
He cannot easily feast on the [bad word] of wisdom

The seasons passed him by
Left behind, he knelt down

Mischievous eyes bore into his back
Growing sharper all the time

There’s a sharp, shining knife in my back
But someone please hold me

chokingly fragrant olive
The boy met a girl

“You poor thing”, she said as she held him
“I’ve finally found you” he said as he cried

I want to put all my feelings into words
But I’m panting so hard I can’t speak

There’s an apple wobbling deep in my throat
Reach in and scoop out all my feelings

There’s a sharp, shining knife in my back
But please hold me tight

I want to put all my feelings into words
But I’m panting so hard I can’t speak

There’s an apple wobbling deep in my throat
It’s panicking, unable to rot away

There’s a sharp, shining knife in my back
I’m covered in blood, please hold me

There’s an apple wobbling deep in my throat
An apple that will keep wobbling there until the day I am reborn