Now my body is broken, leaving my mind just a token, dear lord you must be joking.

The heat of the room, no voices, no boom.

My nest and my hole, no way of telling if it's taking a toll, small bug lights for a soul.

rhymes are for the creatively poor, and being proud of myself is pushing me towards the door, this armor of swears becomes a bore.

the heat of the room, no voices, no boom.

bird, bird, bird, up there and down there, bird, bird bird, fast flapping will cause your wing to tear, bird, bird bird, towards the sun flying you dare.

i feel you from here. i feel you from here. i feel you from here.

the warm of the room, no voices, no boom.