A loose grip on a thin line
Leaves me trailing behind
I know Iżve far to go
But your steps are too small
Now and again
Take me down a peg
You know I can get so lost
Even if itżs true
From anyone but you
Nothing would get through my wall
I lose touch in your goals
Itżs vertigo
And your words are like
Music to the beast
Itżs all lights and smoke
Itżs political
And my grip remains true
Though the line may swerve