What we call inner
Gets thinner and thinner as we grow
Labels get dimmer
Like widows in glitter still far from the love
Couldn't save the light
If you only knew
What we call inner
Gets thinner and thinner as we grow
The sweet and the bitter
Were always a quiver on tip of a tounge
So closely untied
You only knew
I was wonderin' 'bout the growth
From what is to what's called
'Bout the bliss and the cold
And how they turn out to be at both ends of the figure eight knot
While wandering inwards outwards inwards
Rewriting the bars we remained tied behind them
Like the ilex root detached from the soil becomes another of it's spikes
Without taking a stab in the dark, sayin'
We might already be in the common light
As soon as we open the I