Oxygen Tent

You can take out the bad air

And seal the atmosphere

Get cold cloths for her aching head

As time slows for another year

Through all the small gods descending

Waving soft hands to lay

You never thought you wanted to escape

You never felt the weight

You never wanted to escape

Now you're a stranger

You can take back the faces and names

You'll hear their words again

You walked out of good grace

For quiet miles and better years

When the small gods descended

When they raised their hands

You never called it escape

You never felt the weight

Of poison in the air

And good grace

And good grace

And good grace