| A loose grip on a thin line | |
| Leaves me trailing behind | |
| I know I've far to go | |
| But your steps are too small | |
| Now and again | |
| Take me down a peg | |
| You know I can get so lost | |
| Even if it's true | |
| From anyone but you | |
| Nothing would get through my wall | |
| I lose touch in your goals | |
| It's vertigo | |
| And your words are like | |
| Music to the beast | |
| It's all lights and smoke | |
| It's political | |
| And my grip remains true | |
| Though the line may swerve |
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