Here’s a rough scratch of a song with verse and chorus tentatively called What’s Left (of me):
Maybe you had it right all along, no freedom without sacrifice.
Life with blinders on- everything you were told; bought or sold.
See it for what it is, a complete void, used cartridges spent on the bathroom floor.
You had me by the head, heart bore into the apocalypse & you owe me this. Under closed eyelids
So here. Here’s what’s left of me.