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Lay your hands on my throat
And watch me now lie again, try again
Maybe someone should know
Before we get high again, fly again
Of a place where the teaching and preaching you see
Don't come free
Where our hands follow suit, as they trust in our eyes
As I trust in my...
In my head, as real as the fear
In my head, as clear as stain-glass
In my head, or is it better off left in my...?
To paint the day, who am I?
Just a single voice, and so I'll hide and let it slide
And further down, damned we go
And though we cry, no goodbyes
For a time where the grays in the shades still remained
We were sane
Now I dance as my feet rush only to comply
Should just trust in my...
In my head, as real as the fear
In my head, as clear as stain-glass
In my head, or is it better off left in my...?
How far we go, so far
So far to go, how far?
So far we go
In my head, as real as the fear
In my head, as clear as stain-glass
In my head, but it's not what I see
In my head, the dreams I believe
In my head, these things I believe
In my head...
Or is it better off left in my...?
credits
from Self Cynic,
released June 13, 2008
Matt Antaya - Vocals / Guitars
Nelson Carter - Violin
Alec McElechran - Bass
Josh Trager - Drums
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