I lost my voice when I cursed my shadow
thinking it informed who I became.
Or cast me in its unholy glow
where I'm absorbed and riding
a train to different vacant places.
God knows I didn't hurt myself on purpose.
I always sleep with the sheets
with holes cut for my eyes.
His old songs get in your head
when you're excited, who dialed you in.
The worst of thoughts have fashioned a flag
to claim this land in your head.
I lost my way but I'm not sure when they kicked in my door
and let their lord lead me astray.
I tripped over cords strewn over your floor
when you writing songs in a voice that
would never be yours.
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