three hours later at the nine and followed forty
(where did you go from the four)
slandered rocks he left on bricks before a bus of bad memories came to knock me down
straight into the ground I thought it might just drive me to the mantle
molten rock to cool my temper after living below finger pads and being trampled
how could I have run when simply stunned I nearly tripped
over my own tongue
I need to close my mouth
but here I am too kind too cruel to ever say a word but to never stop a sentence what kind of speech is my own
I've never heard it real so to speak you see at least thats how it feels

ask me again tomorrow and I'll say I've felt it true and that I know myself exactly who
and yet
across the bench is you

I'm tired I'm drained I'll completely explain
why I do not like you--
if only you'd sign this form of consent to never sue me over words I may have maybe said
except those are never read just signed in blinded ink instead
so really what's the use just take the helmet off my head
(don't be silly, as if I ever had it really)

he's got his heart on his shoulder but I'm not sure
if there's another in his throat
another one to dread
I hope to find proof yet hope's all I can do
for better or for worse or left for simply dead
I cannot seem to tell good liars what's the truth