I'm driving a wheelbarrow
Into a narrow crevasse
And the red paint is chipping
The wheel is loose
Honesty pains me more than silence
The wisdom of severed tongues
Uphill towards the landfill
I am struggling to empty feelings
This shielded cage protects lies
Feeds on my inability to be unloved
Must we all through the mud struggle?
I cry for the day that dancing died.
