8.Tongues
Maybe everythings alright. Maybe all the chairs are always
spoken for. We got workers in back and the light is on their
eyes but the sadness in your face is beside you with a grin.
You've mistaken all the homes and inspirations for the cage. How
was I supposed to know that we were never meant for this？ You're
the reason we already know and I believe you can call this
weekend-mission：success, but there's a scratch across the lens.
We cataloged all our fears that you treasured and you hoped was
here to stay. This is the cut of the director and we got scenes
out of our way. When there's a scratch across the lens, all is
lost. Hey, wait... we hold our breath as we pass everyone
sleeping.
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