Light filters through your cage
the bars of which are window panes
The static of your television
is drowning mother's mind
Five thousand city boys
dream of taking you to town
Blaming you for their love
roses in their hands
Sit, drink, look at yourself,
hidden from the razor blade
You take your iron kerchief
and scrape away the dust
Say there, dandelion
I heard you called for me?
Hey there, little angel
I hope you're having fun.
The bridge collapsed
beneath your father
Swallowed by the darkness
of a cold New Jersey night
Settle in your carpet nightmares
lifting books to shield your eyes
As images of lovers roll
across your bedroom floor
But have you learned to look
beyond your own reflection?
Can you help but listen
to someone else's voice?
Falling in through wiretaps
Falling,
Falling...
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