Turning Into A Stranger

Soft as the sound of rain on your windowsill

I was lost when you gathered me in

Home is the sort of place where the ground is still

And I am sewn right back into my skin

But that’s me backed into a corner

With my crooked head and everything undone

Calm is the quiet face of a slow collapse

And I am drawn into desolation

Truth doesn’t stretch as far as the tendril wraps

But it moves like a cancer within

That’s me stopped under a streetlight

With the cadence of the blades across the glass

And that’s me turning into a stranger

I’ve given up, I’m giving in, I’ll throw it all away

Ooh, ooh, ooh