Lyrics
Mute Tenderness
A bruised tenderness,
Muted by a failure.
A morning song;
A myth of happy people,
Getting on.
She betrays herself,
A mute tenderness.
Avoiding arteries and veins
Precise like a surgeon.
But I'm unstable;
I'm unable to care.
My private Sylvia,
Engraves her silence.
My private Sylvia,
An empty violence.
She looks at me
With sincere, open, eyes,
While moving
The tombstone from her bed.
But I'm unstable;
I'm unable to care.
My private Sylvia,
Engraves her silence.
My private Sylvia,
An empty violence.
She kills herself,
Some days,
Just to stay alive.
Engraves her silence
With tears that match her hair.
Emptiness.
Mute tenderness.
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