Passing pictures, in a smoky room
They're all so tired of themselves
Passing moments, in a place I knew
I put my heart back on the shelf
It's not your vice,
It's the signal that I feel
Though it has broken
From a device,
It's the signal that I feel
Has come unwoven
Passing handshakes, as you pass it round
You'll get higher by yourself
Your shirt's on backwards, as you leave the room
Where you'll get higher by yourself
It's not your vice,
It's the signal that I feel
Though it has broken
From a device,
It's the signal that I feel
Has come unwoven