All the little turning wheels

Following the dotted lines

in a rush to get to cubicles

To type on tiny keys

Is it really logical

To see a meaning in it all

Isn't it worth so much more to be leaves

Upon trees

It made me bulletproof

Seeing you so aloof

And I'm trying not to take it so **** personally

And every-time I think it's clear

And we've risen past this atmosphere

You turn around & flip the script on me

You're far from near

Choose your words carefully before you begin

Standing watching the dripping tap over an empty sink

We are a beautiful crime scene.