Battue

The truth is I don’t know one thing about honesty
I keep my fingers crossed behind my back, so you won’t see
You may think i learnt a lo since we last met
But really I just haven’t yet
The truth is I don’t know one thing about honesty
I keep my fingers crossed behind my back, so you won’t see
I am no further than I was when we last spoke about
The moment we collapsed under the myriads
And then there came the day, we knew
Would make us want to rest and stay
I’m taking pictures from the passenger’s seat
Keeping records of the turns we take
I’d love to say, we’re not the same
But our fears only have different names
A restless tongue inside a loud mouth
Tells tales of gold — we need to cut it out
I am no further than I was when we last spoke about
The moment we collapsed under the myriads
Grown in arm’s reach of a time, that is no longer there
A distance falling apart, to the delusion we call art
And two years from now, I will be here again
And all the words I speak — repeat, repeat, repeat
And two years from now, I will be here again
And all the words I speak — repeat, repeat, repeat