| All I have return to me
|
| The quiet little symphony
|
| Of voices telling me I need
|
| To throw my hands up, throw my hands up
|
| All I want is symmetry
|
| Between what I have and what I need
|
| Just the blissful opportunity
|
| To turn my mind off, turn my mind off
|
| Who took my place
|
| Cause I don’t recog- I don’t recognize this face of mine
|
| Who took my place
|
| Cause I don’t recog- I don’t recognize this face of mine
|
| It’s the disillusion
|
| Of the lie that I created
|
| It’s my growing inability
|
| To give you everything you need
|
| It’s measured in the weakness of my spine
|
| All I am is all you see
|
| The bastard son of human greed
|
| Trying to fill my endless needs
|
| But time runs out when time runs out
|
| All I am is all you see
|
| A slave to ideology
|
| A voice of reason always screaming
|
| Time runs out when time runs out
|
| All I am is all you see
|
| The bastard son of human greed
|
| Trying to fill my endless needs
|
| But time runs out when time runs out
|
| All I am is all you see
|
| A slave to ideology
|
| A voice of reason always screaming
|
| Time runs out when time runs out
|
| It’s the disillusion
|
| Of the lie that I created
|
| It’s my growing inability
|
| To give you everything you need
|
| It’s measured by my weakness
|
| It’s my growing inability
|
| To comprehend that human needs
|
| Are measured in the weakness of our spines |