i give what i can and won't when i can't
watch the reflection bounce off of the slant
i'm not inconspicuous, that much is true
better the devil that's hidden in you

for all of my yearning, my discourse remains
thoroughly, utterly, horribly strange
and so to the skeptic, or he who complains
it isn't too late to arrange

i won't when i can't and i want what i give
because surely that's the best way to live
as loud as i shout, to the deaf and the broken
it will never compare to the day i'd awoken

taken for granted, that sounds about right
deliberately, knowingly doing the same
this and that, ***-for-tat, it'll all be alright
a whisper from somewhere outside of the frame
when there's nobody else to blame
it's your fault