I too am a child, you know?
But all you do is search in me your needs
When you go and close the door,
I’m still waiting to hear the sound of keys
Its a kind world if you keep your eyes shut
But I’m not old enough to understand it
I keep chasing the past I smell of your shirt
I have a story too, you just can’t hear me
We are two sinners, you and me
Yours are your own but mine aren’t
In the silent handshake, in the absent respect
in the breaking light, and in the crowded subway
Your peace is yours and so is mine
We are two roads that never meet
The steady hand of your father, it was a lie
And the safety too, a practical joke
I left it that but time brought it back
So now there are no lies to hide behind
Mostly comical, these truths are fragile
My brown features a neon sign
You offer me a love that’s easier
But I prefer the numbness from the absence of it
I’m an immoral, impulsive impostor
And you are only as true as my lies
We are two sinners, you and me
Yours are your own but mine aren’t
In the silent handshake, in the absent respect
in the breaking light, and in the crowded subway
Your peace is yours and so is mine
We are two roads that never meet
The steady hand of your father, it was a lie
And the safety too, a practical joke
I left it that but time brought it back
So now there are no lies to hide behind
Mostly comical, these truths are fragile
My brown features are a neon sign
You offer me a love that’s easy
But I prefer the numbness from the absence of it
I’m an immoral, impulsive impostor
And you are only as true as my lies
We are two sinners, you and me
Yours are your own but mine aren’t
In the silent handshake, in the absent respect
in the breaking light, and in the crowded subway
Your peace is yours and so is mine
We are two roads that never meet
The steady hand of your father, it was a lie
And the safety too, a practical joke
I left it that but time brought it back
So now there are no lies to hide behind
Mostly comical, these truths are fragile
My brown features are a neon sign
You offer me a love that’s easy
But I prefer the numbness from the absence of one
I’m an immoral, impulsive impostor
And you are only as true as my lies
And what happens to the miserable men? The unaccomplished?
Where is it that we are headed? Towards what end?
There are stories of the heroes, the loved, and the chosen
But we have nobody to stand up for, nor someone to be loved by
We are the blindspots in the masses, the silence.
A morphing force, we only know to be what we think you want
So like grains of sand we stick to everything, insignificantly
So answer me, what is the fate of the man who thinks he doesn't matter?
Does he get a dream? Is there a place for him in your memories?
What is he and what is he to do? Who holds him when he's disappearing?
What is his contingency plan? Why does he think the way he thinks?
Could it all amount to nothing all that he has achieved?
I am him and he is who I see myself in, we are the same
When he is beautifully quiet, I am gracefully myself