---

Am I making up a breakdown
For the art that is a symptom

Breeding problems like rats
For the bounty their tails fetch
Parading my damage -- a perfectly cultivated wreck

And all the voices begging
"Let us have our beauty
Sing no more of tragedy!
Or your crises

There is real danger in this
Because I can't gain without risk

I am queen of such fertile ground
I can't keep all the weeds out
There is no way to keep it safe but I will harvest anyway

And all the voices begging
"Let us have our beauty
Sing no more of tragedy!
Or your crises"
And all the gods are saying
"We don't require an offering
We just want you to sing
We've had enough of martyrdom
You can keep your head on
Now we need you to be strong

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