With no one wearing their real face,
it's a white-out of emotion,
and I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall.
When the love in letters fade,
it's like moving in slow motion,
and we're already too late, if we arrive at all.
And then we're caught up in the arms race,
an involuntary addiction,
and we're shedding every value our mothers taught,
so will you please show me your real face,
draw the line in the horizon,
cause I only need your name to call the reasons why I fought...