tucked in the back corner
like books and catalogues
you'd never want to see again
i am reinventing myself by the windows
that show me reflections of paradise
reflections of reality
unable to find the bridge or the gap
i am a burn victim
in the middle of a ballad
i am a burn victim
in the middle of an ocean
i am not the man you think i am
i'm watching you dig graves
i am not the man you think i am
i'm the burn victim lying beneath
