Perhaps it was singing to fill our own ears
Or just spinning in circles for so long
Drumbeats cutting out the patterns for our years
Am I really the only one who ever gets curious
Oh to set the not knowing into past tense
But then who said we have to be serious
Nothing always did make the most sense
Sometimes it's not so great to be good at pretending
Although maybe I'm just fooling myself
Yes the double-triple meanings are unrelenting
Gonna fall; they're halfway off of the shelf
All I can think of is that maybe it's theft
When saying what you couldn't have meant
So much and so little of the time we have left
Or maybe that we've already spent
