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In the middle of the night I was sleeping sitting up, |
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when a doctor came to tell me, "Enough is enough." |
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He brought me out into the hall I could have sworn it was haunted, |
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and told me something that I didn't know that I wanted |
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to hear: That there was nothing that I could do to save you, |
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the choirs gonna sing, and this thing is gonna kill you. |
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Something in my throat made my next words shake, |
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and something in the wires made the light bulbs break. |
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There was glass inside my feet and raining down from the ceiling, |
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it opened up the scars that had just finished healing. |
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It tore apart the canyon running down your femur, |
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I though that it was beautiful, it made me a believer. |
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And as it opened I could hear you howling from your room, |
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but I hid out in the hall until the hurricane blew. |
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When I reappeared and tried to give you something for the pain |
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you came to hating me again, and just sang your refrain: |
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You had a new dream, it was more like a nightmare. |
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You were just a little kid, and they cut your hair, |
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then they stuck you in machines, you came so close to dying. |
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They should have listened, they thought that you were lying. |
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Daddy was an asshole, he fucked you up, |
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build the gears in your head, now he greases them up. |
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And no one paid attention when you just stopped eating. |
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"Eighty seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating. |
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Tell me when you think that we became so unhappy, |
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wearing silver rings with nobody clapping. |
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When we moved here together we were so disappointed, |
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sleeping out of tune with our dreams disjointed. |
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It killed me to see you getting always rejected, |
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but I didn't mind the things you threw, the phones I deflected. |
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I didn't mind you blaming me for your mistakes, |
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I just held you in the door frame through all of the earthquakes. |
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But you packed up your clothes in that bag every night. |
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I would try to grab your ankles, what a pitiful sight. |
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But after over a year, I stopped trying to stop you |
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from stomping out that door, coming back like you always do. |
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Well no one's gonna fix it for us, no one can. |
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You say that no one's gonna listen, no one understands. |
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So there's no open doors, and there's no way to get though, |
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there's no other witnesses, just us two. |
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There's two people living in one small room, |
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from your two half-families tearing at you, |
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two ways to tell the story, no one worries, |
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two silver rings on our fingers in a hurry, |
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two people talking inside your brain, |
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two people believing that I'm the one to blame, |
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two different voices coming out of your mouth, |
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while I'm too cold to care and too sick to shout. |
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You had a new dream, it was more like a nightmare. |
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You were just a little kid, and they cut your hair, |
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then they stuck you in machines, you came so close to dying. |
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They should have listened, they thought that you were lying. |
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Daddy was an asshole, he fucked you up, |
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build the gears in your head, now he greases them up. |
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And no one paid attention when you just stopped eating. |
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"Eighty seven pounds!" and this all bears repeating. |