What’s wrong if I spill myself out?
I die tomorrow, don’t you know?
Maybe you have all the time in the world,
Maybe I am running out,
And you have no idea how,
But each passing breath is a goodbye
From this cold world.
And I have breathed more
Than you would ever,
And I have died more,
That one could never
Think about living again.
If I don’t find you in my arms today,
I am dead anyway,
So what if I thought of a tomorrow
That may never come?
Maybe you just like to be
Where you are,
But I have a place to be,
And a feat to see,
I have wasted so much of me
On you,
And yet I don’t see you
Through your mask.
I get nothing in return,
Even when I show you who I am,
And all this time,
You were walking in my dark halls,
And I spelled myself out,
So you could call me by my name,
But little did I know,
I have been talking to a mute.