Technically we still came out ahead
Somewhere between here and my aching f**ing head
Full in color but empty inside, we appear absolute but misaligned
Speak to me my starving soul, crave my hands
and watch them throw you for a loop and off the edge
With a broken voice on a telephone
You look for a place to call alone
I am here, I am near and I won't say no
In a familiar drug sick state of grace
Where a beautiful song is a beautiful place
Supposedly we still came out ahead
Somewhere between here and what wasn't said
Full in color but empty inside, we appear absolute but misaligned
Speak to me my starving soul, crave my hands
and watch them throw you for a loop and off the edge
With a broken voice on a telephone
You look for a place to call alone
I am here, I am near and I won't say no
Getting lost is not a waste of time
If you find a space and pace of mind
Getting lost is not a waste of time
If you find a space and pace of mind
Try so hard to moments waste
Just to feel a colors taste
Speak to me
Speak to me
Speak to me