Death does not become me whilst you tell me of your troubles
And I want nothing more than to pass that pacification onto you
Yet I interject with anecdotal historic battles
And barren attempts at succor while I misuse
My conviction, your confidence in me dwindles
And my intention fails to break through

Hoping to save our collective sanity
Compelled to contradict our comparable sorrow
I don’t say these things to serve my vanity
I say these things to let you know that I know