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Oh, Manhattan
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Ian Curtis
Last night I had a dream
That Ian Curtis talked to me.
I said, “How'd you muster up the strength
To tie that rope around your neck
And kick that chair beneath your feet.
Because I'm not worth the water
That makes up my anatomy.
And I cannot remember
The last time we were innocent.”
Sometimes I feel like Ian,
That he had the right idea.
Well yeah, he lost control, but don't we all?
We don't remember who we are.
Sitting in my mother's house,
These desperate words escape my mouth.
There is not a doubt,
This must be the only way out.
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