Room Silencer

When you're not really doing what you should be doing with your life and it gnaws, and your subconscious is in the backyard scratching at the door like a dog who doesn't understand why it being punished, it shows only our face 'cause your eyes have a new depth' and you look
At the ground when you used to trip over your feet 'cause you where always watching the clouds and the stars

And it shows in your posture 'cause there's a twist in your spine and a drop in your shoulders. It shows when you speak: you're not as articulate as you used to be once, you where right at the center of it all, every function's focal point, now an awkward, socially inept room silencer

Now a feeble, fumbling, frail, pale imitation of the real you, 'cause you let yourself go. You closed your eyes, stepped on a conveyor belt, never noticed the world passing by

Better open 'em back up, motherfucker you're heading toward solid ground again, and that dog has ripped he door down, and he's coming for you