Lyrics Nothing Was Different - Hotel Books

Nothing Was Different

Me and my friends, we’re not the type of people to ignore the smallest problem
hidden in the smallest church mouse.
We hide our emotions, but I found out they’re just live animals hiding in a
glass house.
And I can’t let them out or even let them change somehow
but that’s all I can tell you now.
Cause I’m not ready to tell you everything I want you to know.
But I’m ready to trust you, or at least I’m ready to let love show.
Because I spent the last few years chasing my desires,
and I found out I was just chasing my own demons.
When I found desire in you, you called my words excuses,
but I just thought of them as poorly stated reasons.
Simple execution of neglect and preparation for something hidden in a deeply
rooted promise.
That I’ll always speak my mind, but sometimes my mind will be mistaken.
Because me and my friends, we’re not the type of people to leave room for
error,
but I make enough errors to leave an empty room in my heart,
and with no one to turn the lights on my heart lives in the dark,
and I will hide the light until you ask for it to ignite, cause the truth is
bright, but hidden in plain sight.
Deep within the dark pulls of your eyes,
the deep secrets cold as ice, but sharp as a knife,
the feeling of real vibes hidden deep inside,
my dark feeling that I’m just depression’s trophy wife.
A sight to exemplify surviving the night.
Cause me and my friends, we never get in trouble,
but we are a troubled bunch,
hope lies within our potential deep within the rubble,
hoping that light will touch,
a hypocritical statement of blatant placement of words,
that only have purpose if you strike a match and ignite them.
And there you go, we solved the problem for darkness but reinstated a purpose
of hatred within the deep desires,
we develop to an envelope,
the cyclical deep desires of desiring deep connections to add depth to the
thick skin of our emptiness.
Questioning, representing messages of necessary self fulfillment,
some are satisfied with their instinct to survive,
through the storm of darkness others call it selfishness,
but me and my friends we don’t subscribe to the cloud of confusion found in
questioning what turns the lights on,
no we never ask, cause me and my friends we see the light on and celebrate
regardless, but sometimes the light doesn’t matter when we wear a mask.
So what is gained if this isn’t me.
It’s like having lungs but no ability to breathe.
I guess the light exposed the fact that acceptance became a dead end,
and it’s the only conclusion I can see,
cause someday maybe the identity of me and my friends will just be me.
But with this mask, it doesn’t matter how bright the lights are cause I don’t
know who I am,
I don’t know who I am,
unless it’s me and my friends.