It's different now 
Gray-faced Eyes burnt out 
Flames are gone 
Gloves are on 
I have a feeling 
Love's gone mad  
We're too similar

I should go now quietly 
For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep 
Where all my layers can become reeds 
All my limbs can become trees 
All my children can become me 
What at mess I leave To follow

(words by Daughter, "If you leave....")