needle for a quill Video (MV)

Why is it all my fault
Why is it all my fault
Why is it all my fault
A year ago, I hurt myself unexpectedly
You see, I couldn't distinguish any flowers from the trees
When I'd go walking in the Garden so I could breathe
I'd fall through the rose beds thinking I was climbing
Two months ago, I confused a needle for a quill
And I decided I would never tap the inkwell again
So how, pray, did the finest of lines make their appearance
On my person? They only served to blur the image
Blur the image
Why is it all my fault when I go with my gut
What is the price of a purchase of more self-assurance
How many times must I look to the sky and see
Only the stars that lead me to the Garden
Before I surrender
A week from now I'll finally try to dig my way out
From below the suffocating mass of soil and doubt
Oh, the Garden's planted over many thousands like me
We are souls who can't distinguish between flowers and trees
Like the lines etched in me, they're all roots
A decade hence I'll likely be the same as I am
I'll glance fondly at the inkpot, emptied of its grand plans
Still, the fine lines that the Garden etched in me that one day
All I do is watch them fade till just the image remains
Show me a worse feeling than losing track of a melody
I thought myself eidetic but that's just my conditioning
For if I've fallen far below the treble clef where I sit
I'll crane my neck to catch a glimpse of what I couldn't resist
Why is it all my fault
Why is it all my fault
How many times must I look to the sky and see
Only the stars that lead me to the garden before I surrender