The handle on the doornYou cannot touchnThe knot in the woodnYou cannot cutnA good thing... we had too muchnSmoke is rising abovenThe fire is getting hotter in the windnCoal blackened eyes looking on...nGoing blindnThe splinter deep insidenYour second skinnPrincess feeling nothing underneathnI wonder, does it ever feel the same?nnEverybody's askingnWhen you are ever coming backnI tell them that you're sorrynBut you're frozen in your tracksnThe fox in the headlightsnNever knowing it is wrongnStaring down the righteous roadnIt's lonely and it's longnnPhotographs and picturesnReminders we won't be going throughnI wonder nDo they even look the same?nnNow it's going fasternAnd we're stuck here in this placenThe water is getting deeper,nCutting lines into my facenThe lights are out and broken,nIt looks different in the darknThey are out setting fires,nKill the means to make your marknnAnother slippery stonenWe thought it was drynFlat enough to standnAnd trust until we dienBut we don't really knownWe think we are wisenDeaf, dumb and blindnWe think we have eyes