Who we are is irrelevant.
I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water,
and pictures of you and I'm not coming out until this is all over.
And I'm looking through the glass where the light bends at
the cracks, and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs pretending the echoes belong to someone,
someone I used to know.
And we become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.
I want to walk through the empty streets with something
constant under my feet, but all the news reports
recommend that I stay indoors because the air outside will make our cells divide at an alarming rate until our shells
simply cannot hold all our insides in,
and that's when we'll explode, and it won't be a pretty sight.
And we'll become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.
Background Artist:
Melody Hay This layout was handmade with love by the folks at My space or yours? Go get one!
