Song 8

I am just too scared to see
Strings wound tight are pulling me
By ones that feed, Who don’t feed me
Am I, in charge?
Hit a low you’ll never see
Anyone 'til suddenly
A helping hand so now you stand
But you don’t reach
All the gears too long left stalled
Under the ground, I hear the sound
Deep in the city, can hear the rust shake off
On my own but soon I’ll grow to be a crowd
This is my skin holding me
Keeping my blood off the street
My temperature, from wrists unsure
Says I’m, alive
Course you are glad to meet me,
You mean to take my breath from me
This air I’ve wove, won’t let you close
Go back, retreat
All the gears too long left stalled
start to stir the rust comes off
All the gears too long left stalled
Under the ground, I hear the sound
Deep in the city, can hear the rust shake off