Back again
Just hold still
Don’t be scared
This won’t hurt a bit
It doesn’t hurt a bit
But it’s not the machine killing me
It’s me killing me
My blood and my bone
And I can feel it coming back again
I want off this merry-go-round
Please tell me I’ll be fine
Sure I’ll know you’re lying
But just this once
Lie to me
tell me I’ll be fine
I can see it, I’m not blind
It’s in me, I can feel it
But lie to me anyhow, I don’t mind
Lie to me
tell me you can heal it
lie to me
tell me I’ll be fine
I know it’s back again
But lie to me
Lie to me.”
The silencewhen I finish is fraught, thick, and tense.
Westley’s eyes are wet, and so are mine.
He stands up abruptly and goes into the mixing booth, stops the recording. He doesn’t come right back out, though.
When he does, he’s dry-eyed. “Jo, that was…” He shakes his head. “You’re amazing.”
“It’s rough. Still a work in progress.”
