I can't imagine anything that doesn't exist I can suppress memories that seem to persist
At eight you're running through the backyard running I play the coward here hiding at the back of the room All that country air informs the flow you're riding I'm getting shoved into a box That's looking more like a tomb
Lies can eat up your time until you've lost interest The bar continually raised it can't be hit
You stopped running and accomplished something Slowing down throwing out the rash parts That became you Can I make a call on an impulse? This may be the only way I can make it through
I can't imagine anything that doesn't exist Look there can you see what I just did?
