| Old mister fun is back
|
| Wonder where he’s been hiding at
|
| Hanging 'round the edge
|
| Walls unfortified, inside
|
| No different, patchwork hack
|
| Toil away on an unlaid track
|
| Falls closing in, got nowhere to hide
|
| This time
|
| Finding ceilings low
|
| I’m too big or this room’s too small
|
| Why’s my ceiling another’s floor?
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| Past twisted, expected warp
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| Attention span increasingly short
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| Hard to breathe, this altitude will get you high
|
| I’ve tried
|
| Finding ceilings low
|
| I’m too big or this room’s too small
|
| Why’s my ceiling another’s floor?
|
| And nobody can tell you
|
| It’s a moment in time
|
| That defines and deforms you
|
| Finding ceilings low
|
| I’m too big or this room’s too small
|
| Why’s my ceiling another’s floor?
|
| And nobody can tell you
|
| It’s a moment in time
|
| That defines and deforms you
|
| Write me over, false reporter
|
| Can’t you let me shine?
|
| Write me over, false reporter
|
| Can’t you let me shine?
|
| And nobody can tell you
|
| It’s a moment in time
|
| That defines and deforms you |