Clockwork

I hold the torch to you, I spill a silhouette on the air that's round you. I gather books and I read with missionary zeal, tattooing tears on my cheek to show how much they mean. I pout till I’m so righteous I can't see
I don’t know why we're stuck in such a muddle of cloth, it should run like clockwork! But you can't just do what you want, and wear your face and shirt like a badge of war... though every stitch and seam impresses me, and I'm so righteous I can't see
I steal the torch from you, I steal the silhouette and the world that's round you. I keep your shadows with mine to stoop and stutter by... Dumb butterflies! It's hard to show how much this means when secretly I only want to feel
You look so lovingly upon a decade apart but the veins still drive me to when the battle was lost, I wear the days and hours like a badge of war. And I'm so glad to see how much this means, but secretly I only want to feel these walls around me