I've lost the ability to be angry anymore
And now I can't vocalise anything at all
The words all roll around upstairs
But the language isn't one that they understand
I think that's why I'm medicated
I think that's how I'll die...
High and quiet.
I've inflected my inner voice with an unfamiliar accent
So I won't pay it such attention
And all those things they thought I meant
Are just my clouded mind's invention
I think that's why I'm asphyxiating
And this is how I'll die...
High and quiet.
I'm off-kilter
Like a poorly folded coffee filter paper
And my saviour
Is one and the same.
I find myself fumbling on the bathroom floor
For the contact I lost with you
I'm sure it's here somewhere
But it's hard to see with all this inner blue.
There's the constant sound of a child downstairs
In my head
And she's turning on the television
And it's loud, and it's loud,
And it's hard to sleep through...