the catalyst that we can't talk aboutnnwhen our eyes turn to glassnnand the walls start to come downnnone night on the floornnone night against the wallnnevery time tracking the cracks in my skullnnnnwe've spun on red linesnnwe start at the endnnwe've dropped down red linesnnand we held our breathnnnneverything gets deranged nownnbut i'm still trying to become the changennyou can't stop what has begunnnwith the radio, acid, and a gun