Quiet is the morning's mood
The distant sound of city hum and river running
Are respite from the voices
That visit through the night

Only use the sharpest of blades
Guided by the steady hand and quiet mind
These fine lines are all small cuts
Don't be afraid

Dust motes dance on the sunbeams
Flying airborne and free
But they fade and fall
When shadows come
Just like me

The knife edge seems to know where to go
Every movement perfect with no resistance
Like someone or something
Knows what to do

They say what doesn't kill you
But I say that's just not true
We fold these fragile hurts
And dig them down deep
But they're not gone
They want to be free
And when they come
They cut just as deep
And it just takes longer

It just takes longer
It just takes longer
It just takes longer