in a glass jar

Since I walk by fire -
most often in the midst of desires,
Since I trudge slowly past the icicles,
most slowly by their gripping claws.

I can't seem to break away.
everyday, I wonder if I'll feel more pain.

I can't leave.
they'd say I'm too weak.

I'm always afraid
I'd fulfill their fantasies.

and at night
I roll between fire and ice

and I'm so sick of whining!
I'm so sick of whining!

I can't leave-
and I can't breathe this smoke in
much longer.

and there's no where to go
I keep thinking come monday everything will be
set to go.

Mondays always lie,
Mondays always hold promises
but Mondays always lie to my face.

And the time is ticking away
it's like trying to hold sand in my hands
it don't wait for no man.

I try to see if i could be
with the ones that knew me
a few decades ago
oh god, it's nearly 2 decades ago
but they say you can't leave.
you need to be stronger, you can't leave

and I'm afraid they'll think I'm weak.
I'm afraid that I'm too weak.

and i'm sitting still
like a butterfly in a glass jar
rolling in between ice and fire.
I'm sitting still right here.