Perfection Through Silence

Perfection Through Silence

Finch

Alone at last, together in a photograph
our eyes are always open, devoted to perfection through silence

What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit, wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more

The story is old, only to those who have no mold
The truth can be bought or sold
But what are we buying?
Nothing but silence

What am I supposed to do?
Should I sit, wait for you?
Listen to me screaming more

Fold the corners, break the silence
Fold the corners, just for tonight

What It Is To Burn

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