there's countless channels & piles of old annals but
i don't know which ones i've seen or read
there's a bunch of sounds already, you can tell by the pictures their mouths are movin
but i don't think i can keep all that in my head
i'm already filled with a bunch of stuff other people said
there's boundless breaths & plenty of other people's messes
i don't know which ones i should call my own
the dust is collecting on that union you're busy perfecting
on those piles of principles you've puttin in their stacks
if you threaten me with your document, i'll write one back
there are old circles to breach & plenty of other destinies to meet
i know it, just like you do, that some are glad
i'll keep it short & brief, you paid me in joy but more so in grief
it astounds me you could not know why they'd be mad
but maybe you do, its just your job to smile, but all this silence is bad
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