Distortions
You ask me why I’m frustrated
When you’re staring at me with clouds in your eyes -
And sweet, sweet compliments
Don’t mean much coming from a blind man’s mouth.
See, already I’ve lost you
With my shrewd elucidation of this situation
And you’re brain is spinning circles…
“I think you’re over-analyzing”
You said as you were passing by –
But I didn’t see you look into me, no,
And I am deeper than you’ll ever go.
“Gotta go,” you say,
“You’re not gonna die yet anyway.
If you need me, call.”
But you never hear the words I say.
So I ponder your impressions in seclusion:
You are bleeding of deceptions,
You are reading off distortions in the clouds.
