I can’t escape, don’t leave me Still life, receding The rumors are in reach The skies are stained in bleach Unquiet in the streets A desert, concealed in concrete The walls, the walls, the walls Are suffocating beneath the paint, beneath the paint The sound, the sound, the sounds Is contemplating against constraint, against constraint I must confess, I must confess Hush, hush, you silly mess I think it’s getting close to the end Just yourself to spend Sitting waiting, no one’s calling, counting maybes, maybe The walls, the walls, the walls Are suffocating beneath the paint, beneath the paint The sound, the sound, the sounds Is contemplating against constraint, against constraint