| Living ´cross the border from yourself. |
| Went for a dive without air at the moment you moved here. |
| Emigrating seemed a grand idea |
| but now you’ve landed so hard that you cannot see what’s where. |
| In the race against yourself, the needle’s picking up the steam |
| when you discuss it with yourself, you always wind up disagreeing. |
| And from it lighting up your path, it’s gone to greasing up the beam for a fall. |
| Now your memoirs, it seems, are smoothly ghosted by a scream |
| built from a feeling, to a whisper to the signs you didn’t heed. |
| Left you bereft of energy, you cannot write, you cannot read them no more. |
| 30.000 days to smithereens. |
| The wall came wrapped in a plan, cloaked in hope and a smokescreen. |
| Blurry how this new state came to be |
| like the transitional glimpse between a smell and a memory. |
| In the race against yourself, the needle’s picking up the steam |
| when you discuss it with yourself, you always wind up disagreeing. |
| And from it lighting up your path, it’s gone to greasing up the beam for a fall. |
| Now your memoirs, it seems, are smoothly ghosted by a scream |
| built from a feeling, to a whisper to the signs you didn’t heed. |
| Left you bereft of energy, you cannot write, you cannot read them no more. |
| Living ´cross the border from yourself. |
| Went for a dive without air at the moment you moved here. |
| Emigrating seemed a grand idea |
| but now you’ve landed so hard that you cannot see what’s where. |
| 30.000 days to smithereens. |
| The wall came wrapped in a plan, cloaked in hope and a smokescreen. |
| Blurry how this new state came to be |
| like the transitional glimpse between a smell and a memory. |