my vision's filled with cherries
i can't lift my arms to carry
lay my raft upon the water
and the waves will carry me farther out
dressed up for disappearance
i'll reflect the light i'm wearing
but the mold and the ants will find me
the cold white hand behind me
it won't be late
i won't be saved
i'll make my rain
i'll feel the pain
attend to see the violence
review it and rewind it
instinct says to stand aside
but it's killing me to watch it pass me by
i always kept my hands so clean
until this attempt to intervene