i'm fastening myself to the rhythm   like a ribbon   so when the morning breaks   and the sun is still shy   it's tied like a kite   though it tries to escape me   and tangle itself up in my mind   i might break a new string   lose my voice so that i can't sing   or lose the beat at the wrong time   and watch the rhythm float off   into the sky that might be soft   or fall to ground that never was   we dance, our hopeless shaking   to the skins that we're breaking   or beat upon so as not to feel   what's wrong with this rhythm   what's wrong with this rhythm   what's wrong   what's wrong   what's wrong   what's wrong   what's wrong?