Lowswimmer
Wherewithal
Stood on a bench in a red room
Fill it with ash, make it less you
Wallowing in all this ‘love’
A masterpiece, the effort that I went to
To keep it all intact in the reboot

And I couldn’t be lower
Trying to kill time before I get to keel over
Way to know right from wrong!
I guess you were closer
The time to make time had gone, I know

A pat on the head like a nephew
Still, I’ll endeavour to forget you
Christ, a fucking megaton
Of guilt in all the letters that you left too
I couldn’t have slept any night through