you're oh so predictable,
forgetting would take a miracle
the smoke in your throat, the knife in your coat
fall for a lyric under cloudy eyes
another clever piece of your cocky disguise
but how far can you run
when your shoes are made of gum
and how far could you fly
when your wings are made of lies
and how far could you ride
with a bike made of the sky
i'm asking how you'd ever drive
in a car meant to just get by
it's lacerated locomotion
you move to just escape
and hide behind a catchy beat
and call the hatred fate
but love is more than staying close
and can't be killed by letting go
what's the use in a fresh new start
if you're drowning still in a heavy heart?
