A Man. A Plan. A Canal. Panama. - The Fall Of Troy

The turn of the century that's turning out wrong
No matter what words they say you can rest assured
The stinging wind surrounding is
Pulling strings and clipping wings I knew there was no time
We can dream and speak through sleep and in our minds pick out the signs
I ruined all the lines
The turn of the century that's turning out wrong
No matter what words they say you can rest assured
She comes over to me and takes a seat right across from the sea
She answers questions and pulls from the deep
Calling out to the sun to the sun
Freeze frames were intended but lacking funds
If you knew you'd suffer
I'm making it up
Eyes that speak when feeling nothing's solved
Lost my sense of direction de railed eject off the starboard side
Who am I to demand their lives Their fate is mine
Will I survive
So sweet you called but I won't answer
So sweet you called but I won't answer
Force feed your ego compactor
And let go And let go
If my reputation precedes me
Then I'm staying here comatose
You get your way I'll get on mine
Shutter at the sight of the front door my heart might stop
As thin as innuendo I stare through her windows
Play the night away I play the night away for fear of nothing to win
You asked for my opinion I'm keeping my hands to myself