God, I need a shovel
Because dead things keep creeping up in my thoughts and ways
And I need them to stay dead
Gotta deny myself as well
So tired of the tall tales I believe
When it’s your hand and love I need to receive
I know it’s a season of birth and loss
Emptying my closet dirty garments and masks tossed
Oh it hurts, what’s happening to me
But deep down I know it’s exactly what I need to breathe.
Emotion Dough 