Cobalt Skies Stalker At The Flea Market
It's one of those things
You'll watch so carefully
And never see it coming
Then it gets personal
If you take it that way
Personal describes the way
You blame it on yourself
And I never was
A part of it
These arms are folded
And these eyes are on the ground
It was too easy
There's a day on the calendar
A year from now that says
Think for yourself
I wake up to a tape recorder
That tells me to listen to a voice
That I don't believe in anymore
And I never
Want to do that again
These arms are folded
And these arms are on the ground