A sugar scented sinful message
That everyone saw through
Now subterfuge and Manhattan blues
Seem to dictate my mood
I’ve counted blessings while confessing
I’ve some to spare
Beg or borrow, swallow sorrow
I have come prepared
It’s a right of passage
It’s a torch to carry
When you feel that damage
And it’s extraordinary
The oscillating toll it’s taking on everyone involved
We’ll find connections through extensions to not feel so alone
It’s an initiation conducted at bedside
To a steady beat to help keep time
We’re all focused on holding onto all that we have got
While we’re drifting slowly and posing holy for all that we are not
I’ve counted blessing while confessing
I have some to spare
Beg or borrow, swallow sorrow
I have come prepared