From Mari Ruti’s Reinventing the Soul loc 3851:
…creativity as a tangible outpouring of psychic energy can take place only at the moment when melancholia is transcended. This instance of transcendence does not have to be—and rarely is—permanent, yet it is absolutely necessary for the subject’s ability to mobilize its inner resources in such a way as to be able to translate melancholia into meaning; the melancholy subject may reside at the threshold of innovation, but it is the very essence of melancholia to block and inhibit the subject’s access to its innovative capacities as long as it is incapable of finding its way out of the labyrinth of its melancholy investments.
I've got to take what I'm making and turn it into something
I've got to take what I'm making and turn it into something for you
I've got to break what I'm making and turn it into nothing
I've got to break what I'm making and turn it into nothing for you
God, where have you been?
From Mari Ruti’s Reinventing the Soul loc 3424:
We will discover that insofar as melancholia activates the subject’s fantasy of being able to reunite with lost objects, it quite effectively bars the subject’s access to the signifier. In this sense, the melancholy subject is by definition a subject of silence. In Lacanian terms, melancholia represents a victory of the subject’s fantasmatic fixations over its sublimatory capacity to redirect desire along more rewarding lines. It represents a triumph of the imaginary over the symbolic, of fantasy over the signifier, of sadness over narrativization.
From Mari Ruti’s Reinventing the Soul loc 3454:
Melancholia therefore provides the subject an indirect means of sheltering objects that it considers so precious that their loss seems inconceivable. Such objects, which often take on a larger-than-life meaning and magnificence, demand the individual’s loyalty so intensely that disavowal becomes impossible; if the subject finds it difficult to relinquish its ties to a lost object, it is because psychic energy has been invested in this object so forcefully—with such ferocious fixity—that giving it up seems to threaten the subject’s very sense of self.
When I took the blame
We layed in ruins trying to quote your phrase
We're yelling, "someone's got the answers
But I'd rather think there's nothing to be found"
