Ian Curtis

Last night I had a dream
That Ian Curtis talked to me
I said, «How'd you muster up the strength
To tie that rope around your neck
And kick that chair beneath your feet
Because I’m not worth the water
That makes up my anatomy
And I cannot remember
The last time we were innocent.»
Sometimes I feel like Ian
That he had the right idea
Well yeah, he lost control, but don’t we all?
We don’t remember who we are
Sitting in my mother’s house
These desperate words escape my mouth
There is not a doubt
This must be the only way out