A Loose Hair Falls into a Glass of Water Without Ice

If this is all part of some plan If this is all part of some game If this is some self affirming notion If this is all exactly what i think it is Our phobias are the only conversation I dont want to say anything right now Smoke gets in your eyes And loose hairs fall into a glass of water without ice It's giving you a stomachache Which comes as no surprise when you say that your head is throbbing Or how tired that you are Now loneliness has turned into a desperate thing I dont want to think about that now