"Our Shells Simply Cannot Hold All Our Insides In"

I've got a cupboard with cans of food
Filtered water, and pictures of you
And I'm not coming out until this is all over

And I'm looking through the glass
Where the light bends at the cracks
And I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
Pretending the echoes belong to someone
Someone I used to know - The Postal Service