I’ve built myself around 
What I can’t bare to claim 
I’ve painted over all the walls 
But they still seem the same 
I sit withered in the box, sit withered alone 
I held a friend from coming back I told him I didn’t know 
This was never anything 
The idea that I could be 
Wholly reduced from the bottom of everything 
I felt foreign in my own hands 
Convinced that I’m not a man that could righteously forgive like he ought to be