10.

Bring on the snow, bring in the fire
Let the water above my head get higher
Cut me open, rub salt in my wounds
I'll cry and shiver and fall right through
Touch a nerve and dig in deeper
Make me lonelier than a dying leper
In the chaos of your inflicted pain
I'll scratch my way out again
In the forced silence I'll find a tune
A minute later, but I'll hum it soon
My headless melody best known as
Hope and all that ridiculous jazz.