There are many rooms in my soul Filled with dusty shedded skin From the person I was yesterday It feels impossible To keep two rooms clean At the same time Because after cleaning one room, My attention is drawn To what I previously left undone in the last room. So I have to turn back, To clean that room As I said I would But yet it's never fully clean Or my eyes only see what I can clean Because I always come back Throwing away trash Doing what was undone And the works never finished Because there are many rooms in my soul.