Are we all another vague impression?
An advantage of acute discretion?
All the promise
Of a world we sought to be
All the panic of an ill obsession
I’m not the one
I can feel you drawing lines
What have I done?
How am I left holding fast
This smoking gun?
Can we have another conversation?
Do we share in us a fascination?
See the bottom of bottle black and white
See the common and the complication
I'm not the one
I can feel you drawing lines
What have I done
How am I left holding fast
This smoking gun
We take and we say that we made it
We fake and we say we created
We take and we say that we made it
We fake and we say
I'm not the one
I can feel you drawing lines
What have I done
How am i left holding fast
I'm not the one
I can feel you drawing lines
What have I done
How am I left holding fast
This smoking gun
