Cold

I feel too much and too little at the same time.
I get it
that's confusing.
I feel too much and too little at the same time
because I can turn my heart on and off
and no
you don't know the switch.
It's a rusty old mechanism with creaking old cogs
It's rusted up to buggeree and hardly moves at all
if you touch it, it might break
if you oil it, it'll fall
and if you flick it off and on, it slowly sticks in place.
It's gummed up with the tar of all the tears I've let fall
It's tightened by the feelings I refuse to feel at all
It's wracked and wrecked by the things about me I want to kill
and through it all that fucking switch is flicking still.

I switched it on when you came into my life
it flickered when it whirred
and then it chuggered up in time
it took a little while till it was nice and toasty hot
with the gears working smoothly
and the belts greased by your words.
You tended to the boiler with care and hopeful hands
stroking at the flame with tender tender demands
you coaxed my fire to life and then slowly let me burn
I wonder if I'll be able to get you back in turn.
This fire's slowly raging and my heart is chugging on
it refuses to stop beating and it keeps me writing on
I cannot accept the blame for this, you're the one in for the kill
you're the one with oily hands, you're the one to bill.
You kept my furnace burning and now all my gears and cogs
have started this awful wailing that helps to hide my sobs
I feel too much and too little
and my heart is boiling hot
and soon these cogs and gears
are gonna slow and slowly stop
and once those gears are frozen
it's likely that the pressure will make my frozen heart go

pop.