When I was done dying, my conscience regained

So I began my struggle, a nothingness strained

Out a flash made of time, my new form blasted out

And it startled me so and I burst out a shout

At which my legs ran frantic like birds from a nest

And I ran until drained, leaving no choice but rest

So I fell asleep softly at the edge of a cave

But I should have gone in deeper but I'm not so brave

— Dan Deacon - When I Was Done Dying