I knew I wouldn't recognize you in a crowd
There was a lack of decency and general politeness
Acting on transparent tracks
Seeing through signs
Obscuring charm
Glancing past considerable flaws
Greyed out gates
Lacking colour lacking shape
Camouflaging false pretenses
And fictional pasts
If we're made out of wood
Then we'll float to the top
Calm My Nerves
If we're made out of skin
Then we'll learn to compete