here is a long forgotten voice
I know it's not your voice
because it's always strained
I wake up hearing unfamiliar voices
convinced they're trying to explain
that if my words were clearer
then maybe I would know what I'm
trying to say
just as those long forgotten voices
disappear back into rain

If I was born the same day that you died
should that make me try
I was born the same day that you died
should that make me feel more alive
Not just sometimes but always
I know what I know
I know what I know
I know what I know

I tune the radio to drown out these voices
I don't know
I'm suddenly an empty house
that almost fills up with home
there are days and nights when I don't need to close my eyes
and they feel as real to me
like analogy in disguise