Digging a Hole

I'm trying to let you in
I'm twenty-eight and I'm terrified of everything
and I'm quite sure you're everything
we stood in the kitchen
your hands burning me burning me
I'm too old to feel so young
won't you help me come undone

I fled from the wild
and I'm miles away from home
and your fingers feel like rope
to have to hold to save to choke
and to let go
when we can't hold these bones
to let go
when there's no breath to float

and if we sunk below
and if we slipped from our clothes

then our sunday wouldn't have to go
our sunday wouldn't have to go
and leave us alone

maybe I made this up
there's no river to drown in
it's all dried up
and you'll find me digging a hole
you should go
I've nothing to show
you should go
I've no breath to promise you
to follow through

and I can't sink below
I can't seem to slip from my clothes
no I can't sink below
I can't seem to slip from my clothes

so this sunday will have to go
like the other sundays that had to go
and leave us alone