I have this new tattoo of which the story must be told 
About the night I almost overdosed ten years ago 
I woke up in the hospital with skin clammy and cold 
And tubes in my urethra, down my throat, and up my nose 
My friends and the doctors were all shocked I wasn’t dead 
That’s when Katrina looked at me and this is what she said

Walk like thunder 

So I walked to the rebel spot, I walked all over uptown 
I walked right side up and I walked upside down 
I walked to Chetzemoka with my eyes fixed on the ground yeah 
We walked all over Chetze Beach and kept the rocks we found 
Then I walked back to my parents’ house, I walked back to my old bed yeah 
I walked back and I walked fast past all the voices in my head 
I walked with the sweats and I walked with the chills 
I walked in New York City and I walked in Bedford Hills 
I walked into open mic nights and I walked into the rooms 
I walked feeling optimistic and I walked feeling doomed 
I walked with some mama’s boys and I walked with some punks 
I walked dressed up like a rabbit, I walked dressed up like a skunk 
I walked with some givers and I walked with some leeches 
I walked all by myself and I walked with the Moldy Peaches 
I walked all over the world so I could sing my songs to you 
And to your most desperate emails I said, “This is what I do.”

I Walk like thunder 

But at some point I got [bad word] 
That I didn’t even realise that I’d started to crawl 
That my old friend Ammi died at 37 of a heart attack 
And I cracked cause people my age are not supposed to die like that 
No no no no people my age are not supposed to die like that 
He was the old manager of the sidewalk café 
That place was a second home to me, it’s where I learned to play 
And his personality really helped create a space 
Where a bunch of honest misfits could all gather and feel safe 
He was a cynic, a supporter, he was crazy, he was [bad word] 
He’d either yell out, “Cut the [bad word]  or he’d say, “I’m glad you’re here.” 
And it was always such an honour to have Ammi on my side 
That’s why it hit me like a Mack [bad word] when I found out that he died 
Yeah, it hit me like a Mack [bad word] when I found that he died 
Then enter Alex, 33 years old and so sick with the cancer 
And trapped inside a body that betrayed his real gender 
We all hoped and prayed that he would go into remission 
At least long enough, just long enough [bad word] his transition 
He said, “Kimya, did you know Eleventeen’s my favourite song?” 
I said, “Then get your [bad word] on stage right now and you can sing along.” 
That’s the very first song I ever wrote all by myself 
It’s about angels and recovery and friends and hope and health 
By the time we finished singing he was [bad word] off, he was scared 
He said, “I lost my home, my lover, my insurance, and my hair. 
And now I’m about to lose you too, my new friend.” 
I looked into those big blue eyes and said we’ll meet again 
Yeah I looked into his sad blue eyes and said we’ll meet again 
Then I got the phone call from Alyssa and she told me he was dying 
By the time I got to his bedside we were both already flying 
We held hands and we sang songs, tried to be strong floated around 
While I cursed the skin that he was in for all the ways it had let him down 
Yeah I cursed the skin that he was in for all the ways it had let him down 
But at the same time I was taking my own body for granted 
First I lost sight of my feet then they became unplanted 
And I never felt so stupid or so selfish or so sad yeah 
I body had been good to me and I treated it so bad yeah 
My body had been good to me and I treated it so bad 
Then he said, “Mama, I don’t want my friends to watch me die.” 
So I kissed his cheek, made him a shirt, and then I said goodbye 
And they cremated him in the shirt that I drew 
Of the two of us that said they’re flying over you too 
Now the silver pink ponies have my ho