Yellow backs of chair
           we're in a classroom
               it's outer space
I can see through your shirt, almost to the
                                                           skin
we're in a machine, we are strangers
                   I want the shirt to
                                                show your heart
It should be there somewhere
             in contrast with the green chalkboard
                    we might be on to something here
We are kids inside the classroom
                your hair has some rust inside it, your hands play,
                   we should learn our lesson
I don't know you
                        I love you
Let the world turn away, let the oxygen strip itself in air
      Books are burning, schools out
                 Apples are rotting
It's bad. I have a knife I'm not allowed to have
           this is unveiled love
as we
     will
come to know of it