Pretty Nights
Blindside
Pace is picking up
Tempo changing slowly, gradually, hardly noticeable
One beat per minute becomes two and two makes four
Now where is that door
To reality, check me out and in and out of these motel rooms
It’s unbelievable, is this retrievable?
I think I better leave
Pretty nights flashing photo lights
I feel all right as long as smiles are shining bright
What a game, what a night
I feel all right, I said
Pretty nights, pretty nights, but got nothing to say
Who touched the volume knob?
Has it always been this loud
Allowed it to go from one
Does this one go to eleven
I think I better leave
Nothing is silent except the thoughts in my head
And all those words have been said
Feels unbelievable, are they retrievable?
Because all I do is scream to overpower this noise
Pretty nights...
Pace is picking up tempo, changing the common, normal
Normalized us and paralyzed us and left us with a sadness
And now it’s hovering in the air in between our eyes
I know we can find our way around
Around if we can only find the time
Time we don’t have, but that has been given
Pretty nights...
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