| It’s the beauty of confession
|
| In the sound when the levees break
|
| And all the air is wrong, wrong
|
| Redesigning a connection
|
| A composition painted on my face
|
| With a smile drawn on, on
|
| Sit back and breathe
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| My head is reeling
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| Disembody the infection
|
| With water marks on a pillowcase
|
| With all the nerves turned on, on
|
| Overriding the obsession
|
| To take it all and be on my way
|
| Dragging the lead along, along
|
| Sit back and breathe
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| My head is reeling
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| But all the grace is gone, gone
|
| And all the tired scorn is gone
|
| And all the fire is gone, gone
|
| But the reveal is gone, it’s gone
|
| Sit back and breathe
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| My head is reeling
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone.
|
| Reaching the serene
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| My hands stopped bleeding
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone
|
| It’s nice to know you work alone |