There comes a time and each and every old life. “Is she the one? Is she for fun or is she for searching eyes?”
“Is he a 10 is he a 9, 8, 7, or 6? or is he a pile of oddly weird-shaped bricks?”

Stands in the window a perfectly lifeless window nothing inside, nothing behind, nothing for searching eyes. They’re teething, believing perfection is stitched the width of those manikin's clothes.

Despite my love of falling, I’m not falling in love.
I’m spinning around in circles in my mind.
I’m only chasing her eyes down the road.
I’m chasing, chasing the glow.

I’m not telling a history. I’m diagnosing a misery but I ain’t no doctor and she ain’t no nurse and we aren’t healing anyone tonight.

I got the case of the twitching eyes-a stumbling tumbling mind and a sneaky disguise. Cause I’m a believable but leave-able friend - asleep in the shadows wearing a halo for a one-night stand.

Despite my love of falling, I’m not falling in love.
I’m spinning around in circles in my mind I’m only chasing her eyes down the road.
’m chasing, chasing the glow.

Believe me!
You’re next in the line.
Till next time I’ll leave this behind.
Cause I don’t keep track of my wondering eyes.
So keep smiling a while.

So speaking my mind is a dance.
But where do I put my hands?
I’m not writing choreography for other people’s romance. Cause I’m only trained in a runaway love, believe me, relieve me, then leave.

Despite my love of falling, I’m not falling in love.
I’m spinning around in circles in my mind I’m only chasing her eyes down the road. I’m chasing, chasing the glow.