i want to slow down this song
and cut the shit
i don't know how to be
free, god damnit, 
that's not what i want to say.
or speed it up don't crash don't go
"drive safely" and wear your seat belt
burning blisters on my hands
take a little water from the well
it won't make a difference
i'm dry, and outside it's parched.
no sand will burn my feet: 
i walk between the lines.
I almost drowned inside your head
crawled back to the shore instead
i learned to cut the shit way back when
when you dragged me through your head
if i see you; if i don't;
if i want you; i know i don't
you see i've these hands,
my artist's brush,
one glass house
to shatter or betrust 
i learned to cut the shit way back when
the sand did burn my hands.