[Opening - female choir, then lead] Confess. To what? Confess. To being here? [Verse 1] The quill is wet before I speak; The page already knows. They bring the neighbors one by one To tell them how it goes. A kindness turns into a charm, A cure becomes a stain; They ask the same small question Till the truth gives way to pain. [Chorus] You cut the shape of your fear And tried to make me fit. You made a mouth of every wound And put your words in it. Look at the monster standing here— Whose hands have fashioned it? [Verse 2] The men who wanted every sheaf Now tremble at the grain; The honey that could clear my debt Has made me foul again. If I weep, the tears deceive; If silent, I consent. You built a road with just one end And ask me where I went. [Chorus] You cut the shape of your fear And tried to make me fit. You made a mouth of every wound And put your words in it. Look at the monster standing here— Whose hands have fashioned it? [Bridge - low, deliberate] Somewhere underneath the forest, Something dreams and will not wake. I have called until my voice Is one more thing you take. Mother, if the old songs hear me, Let them hear what I am still. [Final Chorus - rising fury] You cut the shape of your fear And tried to make me fit. You made a mouth of every wound And put your words in it. When something answers from the wood, Remember who summoned it. [Outro - alone] My name is Abitha. Write that.
