Drawing the Line

Camphor crossed with lace, it is the witching hourCinematic but crudeTeasing all my feelings out, you move awayIt seems so natural to you

Still siren, climbing up the victory towerLike there's something left to proveI trap the beads of sweat that run between my eyesAnd free the fever to move

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the lineI'm drawing the line, I draw the lineAnd I have my prideI'm taking control, I'm taking controlI'm taking control, I'm taking controlAnd I save my soulI'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you outI'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you outAnd I have no doubt

Dreamt the sound of scissors, cutting stitches outThen discarding the usedRecording all my problems onto memory cardsYour compassion unmoved

Onto others what they always do to youThe most twisted of your rulesDistill malaise and photograph the hole it leavesRunning out a copy for you