The scene in my mind creates a dimly lit room with minimal amount of furniture involved. The narrator is at one side, and the listener is at the other. The narrator feels as though they're talking in a whisper-like style, but the listener can barely understand. Instead of speaking louder, the narrator is questioning their own way of speaking/conversing.
Maybe my scenario just sounds better in my head. I don't know.
The delightful phrasing rolls nice off the tongue. It seems to me as a reflection of an almost outcast in the sense 'times are changing but am I not?'
The final three phrasing I feel are the stronger parts of this piece, that sudden flow change in correspondence with the worm and bird phrasing change the direction well. It almost ends as if the character in question is harkened to a simpler time where things were simple and they weren't an outcast.