We get in our own way, tripping on our feet.
Filling up our heads too much with words too hard to speak.
Drowning in a place, where the night cannot escape, commit ourselves into the
depths, exposed against a page.
Caught in a phrase, an echo in our minds, a flash, a flood, and it's burned
into our eyes.
I can't explain enough, and I won't let it last the night.
I'll show you that the image is still there unseen.
It's darkest before the light, if we shut our eyes to see the things that we
have lost inside the lines between.
Between the black and white, where everything goes grey, and everything's
unsaid, undone, and the negative bleeds away to reveal the memory that we've
waited for so long for the image shifts and the acid drips down the paper to
the floor.
Caught in a phrase, an echo in our minds, a flash, a flood, and it's burned
into our eyes.
I can't explain enough, and I won't let it last the night.
I'll show you that the image is still there unseen.
It's darkest before the light, if we shut our eyes to see the things that we
have lost inside the lines between.
We're so nervous to see if we've let too much in, if we, if we were out of
focus or out of frame.
I know it's a moment of truth, if a recollection reflects reality,
or if it's lost forever.
I can't explain enough, and I won't let it last the night.
I'll show you that the image is still there unseen.
It's darkest before the light, if we shut our eyes to see the things that we
have lost inside the lines between.
I can't explain enough, and I won't let it last.
The image is still there, unseen.