these are the floorboards where i first fell in love
these are the arms that used to hold so much
this was my shortcut and these were my hands
i used to walk and i used to know where i was going: 'nowhere!'
but i still live here in this room in this house made with delicate paper
cutting my arms off with useless engagements
locking the windows with flower arrangements
my mouth is still open and i am still speaking
but without my mantra i have nothing to say
my hands have always tried to dance first but now i'm ready
tapping my tongue on the roof of my mouth. 'burning the yard down!'