I can scream three thousand cliché lines that I read from your lying eyes.

Face the bright, red exit sign.

Now face the future that you forced to find.


These attacks drive through me in four, for me to walk two steps further.

From the murder weapon, from the crime scene.

How much does it frighten you? We drove for an hour or two.

Searching randomly through shrubbery, searching for a motive.


And was all you expected it to be? Much more than just a name.


Wanted it all, needed it to be

Endless decay of the ordinary. I can feel you through the phone line


Was I all you expected to be?