What have our mirrors known?
Our darkest reflection?
There’re eight billion telephones,
distorting connection.
And I see ten thousand tongues tied,
slur words broke and poor or we
are discreetly choking on all of our pride,
smug-slamming the door on me.

You don’t know me
You don’t know me
You don’t know me…

Will music fade
out the noise off my mind?
And why does the silence have always to wait
‘till just the right time?
How can we start euthanizing
the constant need for our headlight staring?
Blank gaze behind eyes emphasizing
can’t even act caring.

You don’t know me
You don’t know me
You don’t know me…