It seems predictable but I don’t have a clue
Of what you want right now
Talk is measured in the same width every time
But what I want is time
This is the last straw and I feel like letting go
Any state of mind can be traded in with you
It seems predictable; a lot of silence here
But what I want is here
The skies above are just reflections in your eyes
We’re out of touch and time
This is the last straw and I feel like letting go
Any state of mind can be traded in with you
You’re telling it like it is
Showing us how it is
Telling us what is broken
Showing us what is fixed
It’s complicated; I don’t want to bring you down
You’re telling it like it is
Showing us how it is
Telling us what is broken
Showing us what is fixed
Writer(s): William David South, Brendon Arthur James, Adam Michael Wilson, Thomas William George Welham
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