"I believed memory might mirror no reflections on me,

I believed that in forgetting I might set myself free.

But I woke up this morning with a piece of past caught in my throat...

and then I choked.

I bled,

I tried to hide the heart from the head.

And I, 

I said I bled

in the arms of a girl I'd barely met.

And I woke up this morning with the present in splinters on the ground

and then I drowned.

And if I can't see it's for want of you.

You said, I see,

if ther's nothing here then it's probably mine.

My, my turn to see if there's nothing here it will always be mine, mine.

But I woke up this morning with a piece of past caught in my throat

and then I choked.

I guess I've learned the taste of days that will always burn.

I guess I've learned if it's in the corner of my eyes I can't always turn.

And I woke up this morning with the present in splinters on the ground,

and then I drowned.

And if I can't se it's for want of you."

Rites Of Spring, For Want Of