this song will stop at the end of
the end of the end of the start of
the last true beat of your heart

we are what’s left of what’s right

stuck in the valves of the heart
and cut in the lines of the brain
drawn on the pores of the skin
you’ve got no right to complain
do you have anyone to blame?

we are what’s left of what’s right

and i stomp my feet
and i look at the creases in their faces
and i cry because it leaves a hole that nothing replaces
and there always will be more to say

we are what’s left of what’s right

this song begins at the end of
the end of the start of
the first real beat of your heart