Second intermission, anticipation
You know the third act
Small talk drops out of the play

You're standing in the lobby
Tightening your tourniquet
Waiting for it
Waiting for it

And the bell sounds
And the lights flash
And there's all these questions millin' around
And there's no time to ask

Blissful little Miss Leading
She's learning about bleeding
But what is love if not exquisite art
Our only saving grace or is it
And somewhere in your iris
The reflection of my surprise is
Stroll past every last 'do not enter'
And touch me in my epicenter

And the bell sounds
And the lights flash
And there's all these questions millin' around
And there's no time to ask

I'm always trying to get there
I never really get there
To that quiet place where I accept myself

Instead I'm deep inside some high school
Locker room, no clothing
Popping zits of my self-loathing
Under florescent lights

And the bell sounds
And the lights flash
And there's all these questions millin' around
They're too ashamed to ask

Second intermission, anticipation
You know the third act
Small talk drops out of the play

You're standing in the lobby
Tightening your tourniquet
Waiting for it
Waiting for it