Glass

Sleeping in the thicket
Begging for a sound
Only getting shatters

Like glass
Like glass

The rosy spot
Trying to be a saint
Clear doesn’t describe it

Like glass
Like glass

Things are not what
I have known

You are not who
You have been

Things are not what
You have known

I am not who
I have been

Like glass
Like glass

It all feels in my hands
Like glass

Like glass
Like glass

It all feels in my hands
Like glass