I can trace with my pencil all the lines on this map.
I can tell by your posture that you have yet to adapt.
Well, we wrote our words and we sang our songs, God I loved those songs.
It was clear to see we were not ourselves, but reflections of the ones that we loved.
But our voices would be heard like we were shouting at the tops of our lungs,
with our throats tensed up, waiting for answers that aren't there.
Like the reasons you're scared, or our calm tendencies of starting shit right before we're about to feel free.
But maybe that's right. No, we're not allowed to be content with where we are,
no, we just have to keep moving.
So we tried to imagine someplace else, but we really haven't had any luck.
And honey, we tried but if it won't work, well we might just be fucked.
Cause I can trace with my fingers all the lines on this map,
and I can tell by your figure that are you are not willing to adapt.
So you will stay sad as long as you want to stay sad.
Yeah, you will stay sad as long as you keep yourself.
But our voices will be heard, cause we were yelling into megaphones,
and they pick every sound up so carefully choose all your words,
I was not ready and I was not willing, no I was not able to move or anything,
so I cannot be held accountable, though I'm sorry I wasted our time,
reliving bad dreams, I swear I thought they were happening,
and I'd like to get better, I just don't know what that means,
but if Love was the answer, we wouldn't have this disease.
So we wrote our words and we sang our songs, God, I love those songs.
It was clear to see we are not ourselves, we're imitations of the ones that we love.
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