Mirrors

I'm in a room of mirrors.

She ties her hair back. And she puts you where she wants you.

Where she wants you is where I'm at. And she asks what I'm thinking.

There's truly nothing in this mind anymore. And of course she don't believe me.

I don't blame her, I wouldn't either.

Me and my friends break it all and build it back but smaller. Give me glue, give me tape.

I'll stitch it back but thinner.

In my room of mirrors.

Playing at the station. They want Piano Man.

I've lost my patience and he takes me evening plans.

So I cycle to a room with nothing but clothes on the floor.

Me touches my shoulder with a finger I ain't never felt before. Who am I? Who am I? Well, I don't care.

Just give me an ice cream or a cigarette or the wind in my hair. Who am I? Who am I?

I don't care. Just show me a pop star or a sunset or a handmade chair.

'Cause me and my friends break it all and build it back but smaller. Give me glue, give me tape.

I'll stitch it back but thinner.

In my room of mirrors.

Me and my friends break it all and build it back but smaller. Give me glue, give me tape.

I'll stitch it back but thinner. In my room of mirrors.

'Cause me and my friends break it all and build it back but smaller. Give me glue, give me tape.

I'll stitch it back but thinner.

In my room of mirrors.