| Drowning No one really cares where I drown I can jump in the lake As long as my corpse is not in the way when they wanna fish But one thing I know for sure is that I'm made of glass And I'm always on mute And they only regard me as an hallucination A slip of the mind we rather just not talk about Or maybe a good piece of fiction Ready to be re-shelved when you're tired of the story line Best left in a room while they go and rejoin real things I stay on my shelf like a good little book And try to keep my words legible But teardrop misery smears the fine print Slowly rendering me wading in salt and black ink And finally, When all seems lost The end of grief comes The deed be done I am drowned |