I knew I wouldn't recognize you in a crowd There was a lack of decency and general politeness Acting on transparent tracks Seeing through signs Obscuring charm Glancing past considerable flaws
Greyed out gates Lacking colour lacking shape Camouflaging false pretenses And fictional pasts
If we're made out of wood Then we'll float to the top
Calm My Nerves
If we're made out of skin Then we'll learn to compete