I am, I am, I am So full, so full of emptiness I sit alone in airport gloom Not like the journeys planned in '98 I wonder when the switch was flipped But no process of elimination will ever dam this search for reason Oh father make me a lethal instrument of words so deadly they will never mount a counter-attack I'll give it a name I'll tend it tenderly Collate its messages of solace for the tired and spent Conformed and afraid more than we've ever been And as your requiem a patient undivided offense I flick through words you inked in blue I wonder why some have been underlined We congregated there at noon and shifted awkardly from foot to foot While 'sweet and low' knells out its groove you were the essence of a celebration There is an irony in its lack of volume There is no profit in this isolation Make everyday seem like the last And in the chaos of our own decisions what use is a safe place to land? They stole our language Whitewashed our history I choose to write it down I choose to write it down Eviscerated, Now all is entropy I choose to write it down I choose to write it down