Unwound (Lyricless)

I spent ten years taking more and more care of less and less of my father.

All my friendships desiccated and drifted away on cold breezes.  

And if my ego was a party balloon, for those years it slowly was covered over in mud, obscured.   

Then, my father finally died, having forgotten even to breathe.   

Only later, I realized if ever I fell in love or had a son of my own, he would never know. And I saw that the balloon had popped long ago, and I was only walking around with the shell of mud in a party balloon shape, and that now it had all crumbled away.   

And I no longer know who I am.