Before It Gets Away
Yes, I'll try to write it out.
Can't tell if it's memory.
Or storytelling now.
Or a figment from my past.
But it happened very quickly.
Yet it seemed to last for hours.
And the fire and ice destroyed the quiet corners of my mind.
There was chaos all around me and I couldn't find my way.
And everywhere I turned to look it seemed no one was there.
So I tried to climb the walls without a rope or steady footing.
Found myself falling, flailing, wailing, and rebuking.
And the more that I would struggle, the more I became entwined.
And the thickets and the thorns became my flesh, and I was vine.
As I hit the ground and cracked my jaw, and from my lips came song.
The righteous few were looking for a sinner that did wrong.
I pretended to be one of them, yet still I was alone.
So they called me to the last supper, and made me feel at home.
And before I had time to tell the tale of my great mess,
They stuffed me, and they stoned me, and I much confess.
That I was a bit happy that the end was finally near.
But when I died, my family, they didn't shed a tear.
And they found that my soul was still alive, so they threw me in the dirt.
But the wounds that I kept opening made it so it did not hurt.
I searched the greyish sky for someone to help me through this pain.
And from the ashes, there you rose, back to life again.
And I hugged you and I kissed you, and you whispered slow,
"Recount all that's happened, so you can look back and know."
And you handed me a paper and this pen which to write.
And I reaccounted all the agony of this night.
While it's fresh in my mind.
While it's fresh in my mind.
Can't tell if it's memory.
Or storytelling now.
Or a figment from my past.
But it happened very quickly.
Yet it seemed to last for hours.
And the fire and ice destroyed the quiet corners of my mind.
There was chaos all around me and I couldn't find my way.
And everywhere I turned to look it seemed no one was there.
So I tried to climb the walls without a rope or steady footing.
Found myself falling, flailing, wailing, and rebuking.
And the more that I would struggle, the more I became entwined.
And the thickets and the thorns became my flesh, and I was vine.
As I hit the ground and cracked my jaw, and from my lips came song.
The righteous few were looking for a sinner that did wrong.
I pretended to be one of them, yet still I was alone.
So they called me to the last supper, and made me feel at home.
And before I had time to tell the tale of my great mess,
They stuffed me, and they stoned me, and I much confess.
That I was a bit happy that the end was finally near.
But when I died, my family, they didn't shed a tear.
And they found that my soul was still alive, so they threw me in the dirt.
But the wounds that I kept opening made it so it did not hurt.
I searched the greyish sky for someone to help me through this pain.
And from the ashes, there you rose, back to life again.
And I hugged you and I kissed you, and you whispered slow,
"Recount all that's happened, so you can look back and know."
And you handed me a paper and this pen which to write.
And I reaccounted all the agony of this night.
While it's fresh in my mind.
While it's fresh in my mind.