If you can find joy in the simplest of things on your day of birth,
in the quiet, in the calmness of your own mind;
Perhaps there is a day of rest in store after all.
The way the waters recede from the shoreline and come stretching up again like you;
Sleepy in this bed reaching for the ceiling as a morning yawn,
You echo angels and demons, they both call me wrong. It’s a god damn shame – I’m just me