[Him]
So I heard you finally want to talk?
Well, that's good!
Go ahead and grab a seat, we'll get this going...
[Me]
But where are you supposed to start when you don't 
believe in ends or beginnings?
[him]
I guess you'll just (have to) pick a point of 
reference, boy...
Try the first thing on your worried mind or break a 
part off (of) your heavied heart and make it lighter.
[Me]
Well there is this weight that I wish I could lift up 
off my chest...
[him]
Good...Go on...
[Me]
Well, see I used to think that it was just me, but then 
I thought it was envy -
[Him]
You're doing fine.
Keep going....
[Me]
I thought it was envy, and it made me wonder:
Was it time for deep sleeping turned to gritting teeth 
and grief splintered weeping??
Answer me.
Answer me, please?
Answer me!
[Him]
Alright, but I'll have you know that right when I 
thought it was what you suspected (yeah, you guessed 
where I was going with this); it was not.
Now imagine my heart as a photograph: and the picture 
is of fires.
Notice it's worn down quite well?
Can you read the cracks and lines?
[Me]
Well, I see the yellow's gone or going brown.
That, I know.
[Him]
I knew you could tell.
You're doing fine, keep going; just forget not my 
heart's just a photo:
A photo of fire.
[Me]
But where are you supposed to start when you don't 
believe in ends or beginnings?
[Him]
Try the first thing on your worried mind or pick apart 
your heavied, heavied heart.
Please, just make it lighter.