One little voice in the background calling

One little voice in my head

Brings the pain from your toes to your trunk to your tears

From your heart to your soul to your head

Where It rattles around everyday

And always gets in the way of moves

Two big ghosts from the past come calling

Two big ghosts come to call

Bring the past to the fore to the front at the door

From your dreams to your thoughts to your all.

When all you can see are stars

And your limbs are feeling too far to move.

Three strikes you're out gotta get the hell out;

No more strikes left to use.

Grab the kids get the bag leave the blood on the shag.

There is just nothing left to excuse.

You did what you had to do,

And I'm glad you're doing it too

Just move.

Four years on and the voice is getting quiet

Thanks to family and friends.

And the docs and the talks and the meds and the walks 

And the work on which it all depends.

Though it certainly deadens with age

It's never erased from the page.