[Cold Open] I think in riddles on purpose, you pretend you get it. [Verse 1] I leave a question folded in the sugar bowl, watch you nod like you found the answer. You say, “right, exactly,” with your coffee going cold; I let the silence do the heavy lifting. I sharpen my doubts till they pass for confidence, set them on the table, polished side up. You reach for the meaning, I move the cup now tell me what you thought I said. [Pre-Chorus] If you think you got it, you did not. Listen again; don't rush the knot. The first pass opens the door a crack, the second gets lost, the third comes back. [Chorus] Hear me twice, I only make sense on the third try. You can nod along, but don't call that knowing why. I hide the plain answer in the crooked reply. Hear me twice, I only make sense on the third try. [Verse 2] I hand you a map with the north turned down, a neat little arrow pointing nowhere useful. You trace the margin, announce the route; I watch your certainty loosen a button. No, I’m not unclear, I’m just not a straight line. I leave one word out and let it take its time. If your answer arrives dressed up and sure, turn it around; there’s another door. [Bridge] Take the sentence apart at the seam. Keep the small pause; discard the sheen. What sounded like certainty, held up to light, was a doubt with its collar done right. [Final Chorus] Hear me twice, I only make sense on the third try. You can nod along, but don't call that knowing why. I hide the plain answer in the crooked reply. Hear me twice, I only make sense on the third try. If you think you got it, you did not come back around and give it one more try. [Outro] I think in riddles on purpose. You still pretend you get it.
