String - Tunng

hang my eyes up on a hook

swells the panic;

i can’t look

inside my own skin, i fail

to find my-

self again

a million faces look the same,

and their replies evaporate

there’s no soul

behind these eyes, if they can’t glue me back again

ghosts drop hints

and whisper things, just

blood and bone, and

bits of string;

blood and bone, and

bits of string

family portrait on the wall

quiet confusion, circle this:

i can feel

my mother’s hand, but

i can’t find her

face to kiss

there’s no soul

behind these eyes, if they can’t glue me back again

someone’s life

inside a box;

nothing here resets the clocks

ghosts drop hints

and whisper things, just

blood and bone, and

bits of string

blood and bone, and

bits of string