Fine Della Scena

Another mime at the door,

To the ends that you seek.

You asked for the birds,

But they're stuck on repeat.

Here's that filtered excitement,

When it's surely wrong.

Here's an uglier eye,

That sings to the dawn.

And all things considered,

We're probably just young.

Like you took all that talking,

To loosen the tongue.

Here's a sense of a time that,

Slips through the hold.

Here's a thing that you said that,

Cuts in the cold.

And all things considered,

I'd say we're just young.

Like it took all that talking,

To cut off the tongue.

Here's a sense of a time that,

Makes it feel small.

Here's a thing that you said that,

Means nothing at all.

Another mime at the door,

To the ends that you seek.

You asked for the birds,

But they're stuck on repeat.

Here's that filtered excitement,

When it's surely wrong.

Here's an uglier eye,

That sings to the dawn.