Won't be Tonight

[Intro — close, almost whispered] I'm ripping my eyes out. I can't see anyway. [Verse 1 — spoken rhythm] The madness of it all spins my head sideways. This feeling's dark, but honest and true. Can't tell a blessing from a curse anymore. Can you? Can you? I've gutted my life trying to make room for you. Whispers of night turn to cries at the moon. I cry because my heart's been eaten. Still here. Still breathing. [Chorus — raw, rising] They won't shut up. They won't shut up. The voices know the way into my hell. They won't shut up. They won't shut up. I can't hear myself. A blessing or a curse? I can't tell anymore. We built a home. What were we building for? [Verse 2 — harder, tightly rhythmic] Working my face down to the bone. My tongue cut out before I built this home. My nose cut off to spite this fucked face. Everything done right just to lose in disgrace. And to top it all off, the thought death won't erase: all the bullshit I've lived through time and through space— Will it all happen again? Till I get it right? I can tell you now: it won't be tonight. [Chorus — full band] They won't shut up. They won't shut up. The voices know the way into my hell. They won't shut up. They won't shut up. I can't hear myself. A blessing or a curse? I can't tell anymore. We built a home. What were we building for? [Bridge — instruments fall away] I guess I'll never be— Well. I have been. And I am now. I dare you to think I'd be less. [Breakdown — shouted, space between lines] DOWN TO THE BONE. I BUILT THIS HOME. DOWN TO THE BONE. WHERE DID I GO? Will it all happen again? Till I get it right? NOT TONIGHT. NOT TONIGHT. [Outro — spoken, exhausted] I can tell now that it won't be tonight.