[Intro] (tape hiss, thin guitar with delay, 8 bars) [Verse 1 - Male Spoken Word] (flat, tired) A cloud with no rain in it, going over. A tree in November, twice dead, pulled up by the roots. Foam on the water spelling out its own name. A star that got loose and is going somewhere dark. [Verse 2 - Male Spoken Word] (sparse bass and brushed drums enter) I used to say those things about other people. I used to say them fairly loudly. I said them in a very large room with the doors open so it carried. [Chorus - Male, Half-Sung] I've got nothing in me. I've got nothing in me to give you. I came over your field for eleven years and I never once — [Verse 3 - Male Spoken Word] (tape wobble begins, pitch starting to drift) I found the list last week. In the back of the Bible. In pencil, like I said. And every name written on it was mine, in handwriting I did not recognize. [Chorus - Male, Half-Sung] (tape degradation increasing through this section) I've got nothing in me. I've got nothing in me to give you. I came over your field for eleven years and I never once — [Outro] (audio degrades badly — pitch drifting, warble, the detuned piano swallowed by wow and flutter, then hiss alone) [End]
