Lyrics

The lights pierce like a broken lens There was solace in the silence But her words looked just like violence And I'd drag waves back to that place But Good Lord, it's no good, there's no escape I've only weathered eyes to see there's no escape And the street lights are staring back at me These weathered eyes won't compromise the misery And the street lights, staring back at me We are malfunctioning machines; Clockwork doing things it doesn't mean Coping devices jammed in a box That isn't quite up for the job We've put on all these masks And we tore up the garden path They say 'he is a man come to grief // from drinking and dissipation' But I am far less sown // than these redundant connotations I've still got everything in me // that I promised not to keep We are the broken machines We are tied to the seams That keep us up at night That keep these weathered eyes (from sleeping)