Well what am I to do?
I know all the things around your head and what they do to you.
What are we coming to?
What are we gonna do?
Blame it on the black star
Blame it on the falling sky
Blame it on the satellite that beams me home.
The troubled words of a troubled mind I try to understand
What is eating you?
I am watching your chest rise and fall
like the tides of my life,
and the rest of it all
and your bones have been my bedframe
and your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
to offer up the deep
with both hands
“The good are innocent and create justice. The bad are guilty, which is why they invent mercy.” -Terry Pratchett