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