And listen to me beg and cry,
While words can’t listen,
And I can’t die,
And all I have inside is a faint try
Of doing this
As if
It has a sense.
And yet I’m not surprised,
As I beg, and as I cry,
That words don’t listen,
And yet I die.
In me there’s do, but there’s no don’t,
And there’s no try.
Doing this
As if it has a sense
Makes me feel a bit dense.