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The music rolls down the list
As I play each song
To see if I still want it
While the voices sing
I try to write
And as I am told
That the music has died
I feel the words
Breathing last painful breaths
My soul is deceased
And I give up on the idea
That I have anything to say

But as I surrender to this
My fingers find excuses
To keep moving
To speak of how
Nothing I've ever written
Has ever mattered
And nothing I've written
Has ever been read
And nothing I've said
Has ever been heard
And every creative burst
Has gone unnoticed

My fingers speak
Of how no one has ever cared
And now neither do I

So fuck them
And fuck me
And fuck you too.

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