She spoke in a dead language
Diction bleak, musique concrete
The streetlights seem to twist and turn
As if they're hanging on her every word
There's no one around to hear
And yet, we're overcome with fear
Staring at the screen, looking for something beautiful
Mimicking the moths, buzzing in the light
Call it a sixth sense, call it what you will
A secret look, a silent joke, a dollar from the till
Call it a delusion, or whatever you see fit
A handshake deal, wet cement, things better left unsaid
His eyes begin to water
Crocodile tears that we can all see through
Accountability, in absentia
The perfect cover for the fragile ego
Sweet Icarus carry me into the sun
I wanna see something, see something beautiful
Mimicking the moths, beating themselves to death against the lights
Mimicking the moths
Run run run
Run run rabbit, run
Run run run
Run run rabbit, run
Run run run
Run pig, run
Run run run
Run pig
Call it a sixth sense, call it what you will
A secret look, a silent joke, a dollar from the till
Call it a delusion, or whatever you see fit
A handshake deal, wet cement, things better left unsaid
