A sugar scented sinful message
That everyone saw through
Now subterfuge and Manhattan blues
Seem to dictate my mood

I've counted blessings while confessing
I've some to spare
Beg or borrow, swallow sorrow
I have come prepared

It's a right of passage
It's a torch to carry
When you feel that damage
And it's extraordinary

The oscillating toll it's taking on everyone involved
We'll find connections through extensions to not feel so alone

It's an initiation
Conducted at bedside
To a steady beat
To help keep time

We're all focused on holding onto
All that we have got
While we're drifting slowly and posing holy for all that we are not
I've counted blessings while confessing
I have some to spare
Beg or borrow, swallow sorrow
I have come prepared