Lack of Skill
Tim Meijer, Milena Eva, Thomas Sciarone, Kamiel Top, Jaka Bolič, Igor Wouters
I go inside, my eyes struggle to adjust
I decide I can't take it out on you
I imagine how you smell, how only you understand
That it eats me up inside, every morning every night
Words come out without a second thought
Steady, unrelenting like a knife
How lucky I am you consider my lack of skill endearing
Words escape my mouth
And then the sky falls on top of me
It all just makes me sick, really
I pretend not to be present
