Silk-screened masquerading nself impression of younchange it again, change it againnit's like I'm asphyxiated by the false reception of younchange it again, change it againnyour eyesncauterizing and your eyesnare lost in the glarenand i know you'll never carennthis tempest resides in boxed screens and magnetic waves, wavesnncan we break away and embrace our miscarriage? nwill we surrender now to a paradigm of formality and nsit back, concede, it owns younopaque, to you its all clear and I know the tides will find a waynnto change again