We're the ones who have to suffer, we're the face of promises
Leaning on the railings of metaphoric precipices
Looking for meaning, looking for nascent symbolization
Two dimensional with no depth
Cardboard players on matte frames
Off with ere heads
And you're off to see the wizard
In your little black dress
With emerald eyes
And come
Fuck
Me
Pumps
And I can't find the whole
Just the segments of time
Slipping away til
I'm too late