On a static evening
Couldn't move my hands
Couldn't wait again

The mechanism's been failing
Couldn't look the other way
Couldn't think of something else

It's a glasshouse I'm living in
And the air has filtered in
I'm breathing all of time and space
And feeling all my wounds and theirs

It's probably some word you said
Or a strange movement someone made
The colors of the streets at night
That displaced something in my head

Is there anything good to say
Anything that could make a mends
Gathered the strength and closed my eyes                          
Trying to fly over myself