strange times these events hold we draw sharp lines with harsh words we speak similar language but theres gaps in the information you want me out of my skull i wouldnt know about that its never quite in control it always finds a way out when no one seems to have heard what youre not talking about and we tell different stories recount thats the sound of maybe the last few years or a lost love we speak repetitive phrases in these same old familiar ways we never look at the world through quite the same set of eyes we shift and crumble and crawl and no ones getting it right and who could say who they are with words so poorly defined and we tell different stories 