| With a birds-eye view, from above, I’m losing all sense of boundary line
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| These make believes, and empty signs, I never pay them any mind
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| It’s funny how sometimes you end up, on the opposite way, of the plans that
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| you’ve drawn
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| I know it is nonsense to be there, it’s a fucked up path, that I’ve ended up on
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| Just because it seems obvious, doesn’t mean it’s yours, no it doesnt mean it’s
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| done
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| what difference does it make afterall, if you’re not in the middle to reach it
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| anymore
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| Just because you’ve been good before, doesnt mean you’re cleaned up,
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| doesnt mean you’re clean
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| Names on all the paintings are gone, faded by bleaching clay
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| These make believes and empty signs, never liked them anyway
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| It’s funny how sometimes you end up, on the opposite way, of the plans that
|
| you’ve drawn
|
| I know it is nonsense to be there, it’s a fucked up path, that i’ve ended up on
|
| Just because it seems obvious, doesn’t mean it’s yours, no it doesnt mean it’s
|
| done
|
| what difference does it make afterall, if you’re not in the middle to reach it
|
| anymore
|
| Just because you’ve been good before, doesnt mean you’re cleaned up,
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| doesnt mean you’re clean |