I poisoned my body.
I couldn’t look at you straight.
I was too tired to change.
“I’m coming home late”
Is there a face to my Love?
Or is it faith in nothing,
that gives me strength to question
love's true shape?
But how could it be
we’ve gone so long.
He don’t even know all the reasons.
He don’t even know what it is to be.
He don’t even know all the reasons.
But I never told you I asked for one.
I will not hear you
or receive your praise.
For I am not I,
and you know nothing else.
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