That's the benchmark of my life — a slow, breathing sigh, I haven't seen myself like this, from the side, I mean, Or at least not for a long time, not in that soft outline, It's more than just every now and then that I wish I could hide. (Lord have mercy! Listen!) {that's the benchmark of my life, right now...} With very little rhyme or reason, somehow... If that's the mark right now, then it falls quite short of being sublime, More small combustions than constellations — a postcard of decline. (Hear dem talking! Dem talk too much!) It's more than just every now and then that I wish I could hide, With very little rhyme or reason, somehow to dodge the tide. To avoid the risk of overstepping the mark — I'd hazard that it's true: It's not always that dark, only in the mind where shadows do. (WATCH OUT!) Proceed to wear your profile from the side, darling, just like a film, Wear the hush of the hallway, the cigarette-scented hymn. Just sublime — a silhouette on a boulevard of borrowed light, I try to find the magic in everything, even the quiet night. Oiyah! Rather than searching for glass in the park, bright with splinters of lost time, I'd prefer a reality that isn't quite so stark, or at least as kind as I can find. (Check it!) A film where people go round, questioning how they haven't lost the plot, I always land on my feet — scrape by by the skin of my teeth, tying up the knots! (Brap!!) If that's the benchmark of my life right now — a photograph in silver grain, (Boom! Blast!) Then let it hum with ordinary sins, with jukebox prayers and candy rain. Somewhere between the headline and the hush, I keep the light that won't combust, Because if I lean into the lens, I learn the difference between love and rust! (Riot! Riot! Come on!) Proceed to wear your profile from the side — let the camera catch the scar, Smile like an aisle of broken bulbs in the neon of a lonely car. Just sublime — slow dancing with the ghosts on the interstate, I try to look for the wonder in everything, even in the weight. Oh, what it takes to fall — you count the cost in postcards and in songs, You trade a sober morning for the glitter of the wrongs. Sometimes the skyline writes your name and sometimes it lets you go, But I keep the soundtrack playing soft, a velvet echo low. It's more than an angle, it's an answer — a face I almost recognize, The profile from the side, the one that holds the truth in tired eyes. (Nobody can test the sound! Nobody can stop the fire!) Not always sublime, but honest — a flicker in the dark that tells me I'm alive, I try to wear that fragile glory like an old coat when the world takes a dive. Proceed to wear your profile from the side, let the silhouette be known, Just sublime — not celestial, but mine, photographed in chrome. I try to look for the magic in everything, even the rifts and lines, A film where people go round and somehow we survive the signs. (BOOM!) (Oh what it takes to Fall in deep...) Swimming with Demons in our eyes and Demons at our feet! (Scream!) Screaming with Demons by our side! {I almost forgot I was free...} Anyone would think I was mad... RATTATT A TAT A TAT! {THAT'S BECAUSE I AM!!! YEAAAAAHHH!!!}
