Try not to picture that silver ring; on his bony fingers it lingers still. Try not to picture the world he sees through the fog of memories and ill-will. Hope you’re not bitter at the songs he sings, how in hushed and whimpered whispers they slither.
Try not to picture your bear trapped in a razor-wire cage made from his thoughts and from his dreams and the nightmares in between. And never think about the lies you pushed into his head, and never think about the nights he wishes he were dead. And never wonder even once if maybe you’re to blame (no you are not to blame), and never worry. Never worry. Never worry. Never worry.
Try not to picture your bear trapped in a razor wire cage made from his fears and from his hopes and the lies you told the most. And never think about the lies you pushed into his head, and never think about the nights he wishes he were dead. And never ever, ever—no you are not to blame.
And never worry. Never worry. Never worry. Never worry.