Visiting Hours

Drifted along, lost soul, so what do you know now about forgiveness?
 Peel the wallpaper back to reveal scumbag, staggering reminder
 Ended alone, punch drunk, you must admit adrift from the beginning
 But it takes a strong girl to see when she's weak in the knees and stone blind
 Oh, and memory's always up for a visit
 Ah, but memory's only out for itself
 You see my hands can still speak
 It seems I can do just what I want to
 I can lift up a pen and begin to put an end to the smell
 And all the young men that pass will not ask after the fate that awaits them
 They will aspire peace of mind and return to the cards they were dealt
 Oh, but memory's always up for a visit
 Oh, and memory's only out for itself
 No, you can't give it away
 Arms around it
 Fate, the confusion of the butterfly in the diving bell