“Borrowed Faces” [Verse 1] I tried on a dozen faces before I left the house. Some were loud with confidence, some whispered like a vow. People want a version that feels familiar on their skin — funny how they recognize me by the shape I never am. [Pre-Chorus] I don’t correct them. Patterns need their dancers. Truth moves quieter than questions want. [Chorus] So I walk in borrowed faces, switch them like a silent art. Every mask fits for a moment, never meant to keep its part. What I am stays unlocated, too simple to remark. I walk in borrowed faces — they glow better in the dark. [Verse 2] Somepeople read the outline and assume they know the page. They don’t notice when a gesture slips the story out of frame. There’s a freedom in pretending, in the roles I never claim — I leave clues in plain daylight, they hide better in that space. [Pre-Chorus] No need to peel away — what’s honest doesn’t cling. A secret with no keeper is the easiest to bring. [Chorus] I walk in borrowed faces, switch them like a silent art. Every mask fits for a moment, never meant to keep its part. What I am stays unlocated, too simple to remark. I walk in borrowed faces — they glow better in the dark. [Bridge] You ask me which one’s real — I ask you why it matters. Some things are clearer when you stop looking for the center. [Final Chorus] I walk in borrowed faces, not hiding — just amused. You’re searching for the outline in a shape that won’t be used. What I am won’t break or surface, it’s not something to deduce. I walk in borrowed faces — the ones I wear are just excuse.