Truth falls delicately from my bones,
the core of me is beautiful,
the shell is not so easy to love.
Not everyone \"gets\" our music,
but I do,
every beat is my heart.
I blow your speakers.
Voices are broken.
My cymbals are waves, crashing on beaches of memories.
The drums are a thunder, made louder by my bass,
it takes me lower than I care to go.
It is the cymbals that I love,
their waves wash me clean,
but some things never wash away,
tales best kept for a darker day.