Spill You have a pillow I'm clutching a knife Forget everyone and all their strife Grab the cushion, spill the feathers Grab your sister and see wether She wants to come out and play Rip them open, stuff their faces Make sure- they can't- breathe- And then what? Running and running and running. I don't know what we're doing. "When shall we join them?" I ask We don't belong there. I belong with you.