Moth

Nothing’s gonna be kept sacred

If you give it up, then you should fake it

Then somebody wins

And you shimmer, you got thinner, or it might just be the cloth

Well, I’d love to be a butterfly, but I was just a moth

I eat away at all your clothing

I hang out on your wall self-loathing

I won’t bother you

There’s a serious request at hand, you’re trying not to laugh

And it seems like good things go away, but bad times never pass

Everything grows then goes out the window

Lay me to rest right under your pillow

You don’t have to hold a service, everything is perfect as is

What’s left to say?