I caught myself talking to myself
I regret I regret opening my mouth
You would do better
To cut out the chatter
Take your secrets to the grave to the grave to the grave
It’s fine, they’ll never never never understand anyway

But sometimes you have to play the harp badly
Find something to dig into with your body
What good’s a gut for if not for getting that gut feeling
And what’s a throat for if not for sometimes screaming

If I keep dwelling on what I've lost
Will I lose will I lose what I have left
Have I set a boundary
Around my body
A cage of grief and shame to keep people away
It's not fine, it only causes more heartache

So sometimes you have to play the harp badly
Have your hurt heard so that it's out of your body
Letting people in may even bring you some healing
And even if not, then at least you'll be singing