All the things I told myself and I heard nothing Every lie I sold myself till I quit buying Found the inner activist and killed her quiet Buried under processing but she's been climbing Up in my tree I have all I could really need And the fork in my tongue troubles no one Shame and relief to be finally truly seen As I am As I'll be As I've been All the nights I cut myself and I felt nothing Murder every messenger But they keep coming Cultivate your loneliness till you're a loner Cradle your anxiety and anhedonia Down at the end of your day in the mess you've made And the bones of your bed She's a shipwreck What's in a name or a face or a garden grave? Stomach-sick at the turn of the trick Left waiting on the airlift out Stuck straining for the punchline now Worry away your pretensions of guile and grace What's the last thing you said? God's a basehead Spinning in place Never fazed by the risks he takes Then you fell through the floor On a low so pure When you spread at the surf Did your teeth hurt? Almost awake I await a redemption day Laurel Leaf You'll be all I can see All the signs I showed myself and I saw nothing All the signs I showed myself and I saw nothing