So much for small talknThe big ideas somehow snuck innWhen we weren't lookingnAnd scared awaynThe light-hearted laughternOf our innocencenAnd it was replacednBy a poker-faced neednTo draw lines in wet cementnnI wish we could go backnBlindfold ourselves andnTurn each other aroundnInterlock our fingersnAnd follow the soundsnBut without our sensesnI feel defenseless and confusednSo attempt to be on alertnFor fear of getting hurtnnThere were nine of us in photographnNow our secrets hide in the tall grassnYou can take the no with an ample glassnThere were nine of us in the photographnnThe modes and lines of communicationnHave been cut, now it's complicatednWe can't go backn'Til we learn to relaxnnAnd I did something I wasn't proud ofnYou paid me back, we're even and then somenWe can't go backn'Til we learn to relaxnnThere were nine of us in photographnNow our secrets hide in the tall grassnYou can take the no with an ample glassnThere were nine of us in the photograph