The city is clouds
You make him the sun
You wanted that poison
And bit the gun

You know it don't say much
The things that he did
You'll build him a tower
He'll burn you a bridge

The nihilist tells you
That nothing is true
I said "I faked global warming
Just to get close to you"

I read the book
I drank the chains
I made you look
And I'm still here
I'm digging through the trash
I can hear the train
As it moves past

The chase is as trite
As the story I stage
A projection I write
In a book on a page

But I won't do
What I ought to
That vacant stare
I make to fool you

I'm watching from
Bodegas on the street
And I'll say barely
Just how highly I can think

The arsonist tells you
That it gets more blue
The things you believe
In a clay-bedroom snooze

I read the book
I drank the chains
I made you look
And I'm still here
I'm always digging in trash
I can hear the train
As it moves past