My tongue is split in half. It stings. It try to speak the words, but all I do is hiss. I turn my back on all that's said, I hear no words, my mind is blank. So I stare and stare until I produce the savior tear, until it rolls down and I no longer need to hear. They tell me it's ok. I nod, appreciate, but now it's hot, and it's all I've got. So I just stand and rush away, for all the world I do not dare to stay. The washroom's near. I will not bear this fear. So with perfect ease and steps ahead I walk right back. It is ok. That's what I try to say. But when I speak, the truth's revealed.