It seems like the end
When all of my friends are getting up to go
How can the eye be lonely
When it never had the chance to know
Anything besides the little lines that
Make up my neck and throat
If only they knew that it was watching them too
Then they wouldnt have the guts to show
Holidays don’t really exist
In the place where you lay your head
If you think it could be
Only you and me, then i dont know where you are
Adamant to keep your happy eyes, will keep us in our respected lies
Pushing a different carriage, than the one you started with
But how can you know when the symptoms will show
And youve never been elsewhere so there’s no place to go
Twenty first, third and fifth