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As the feet plod along the ever deepening grooves
And the hands wring songs until the flesh wears through
I only do all that I know to do in the darkness of my cave
I am a splintered chance. I am a wayward clown
I don’t even dance when there’s no one around
And I only take what I’ve already found in the weakness of my days
As the heart explodes when expectations burst
And the mind erodes from its unsatisfied thirst
So the illness goes from bad to worse when there’s nothing left to save
I am a mournful dirge. I am a smile up-side-down
I fall through the dirt into a pit in the ground
As the hummingbird sings without making a sound, following my ways
As the flowers grow on the top of my head
Finally buried, though long ago dead
No memories, but regret instead accompanies me to my grave