Discover Me

Here on Earth, I quake
with my bellyful of steak:
broken-hearted;
crawling across the floor.
It's heard to keep in time
when your brain
is soaked with wine,
and the Visigoths
are knocking at your door.

"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Break this chain of anonymity."
"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Take some notice, and set me free."

Here on Earth, we stand
and our shoes are full of sand:
We have come for miles
just to see you smile.
You locked us in one room,
and you took off on your broom,
and we see we've missed
Nirvana by a mile.

"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Break this chain of anonymity."
"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Take some notice, and set me free."

She's like a thorn
that has lost its rose:
she's all cold and hard,
but she's got to pose.

And her face just freezes
from the way she smiles,
and her smile sends chills
through her love and mine.

Here on Earth, we kneel
with our shoulders to the wheel:
when will someone else here
take this pain?
Don't you hate the feeling
that the people you are healing
will just go out
and hurt themselves again?

"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Break this chain of anonymity."
"Discover me," she cried wildly,
"Take some notice, and set me free."