There's a slow pulse down here and a peace like drowning and I don't mind if I do
I don't care if I ever make a thing of myself and I don't care to speak to you
You tell me these things end in tears, shouldn't want one thing too much
You're wise from your years of ruining everything you touch
Take your hand off me
You say you're not lonely, unquiet or ill-used
I guess so much misery surrounds you that I just got confused
I thought I heard you keening
I'm doing well down here and, if I'm drowning, it takes weight off my back
If I skirt some tragic fate and die in my sleep, you'll just have to live with that.