I'd like a signal
that I receive.
A clearer picture than my TV.
A static free emotional sound
breaking through all the darkness that surrounds me.
Towns seem to compliment her style.
She trys to swallow a sinker with the hook intact.
Probing her heart with words of fabrication.
She torments herself but that thin line to heaven is strong.
Her feet can barely function. (she looks around)
She's breathing from one lung. (she looks around)
She's just convinced to die, to die.
She says "that word" which cuts like a knife.
Coming from your TV is a message far from truth.