I am held together by a string of youth I take each day, to make sure i dont run away With my moves, but Im so tended to neglect My regiment And throw my lips they roll away Would i die? Would my hands begin to shake Like a church Would my plate begin to flip Or would i wake And see my life as it really is And gather strength To swim again inside my self And would my hand Once again went to my cheek And feel its warmth And push the door into myself