Cycles
Matthew Dessner
Cutting off my limbs in self defence
Fingers at the screen
I can only dream
Of getting to know you
Breaking at the seams to sever ties
Beyond deleted scenes
Like the shifting tide
It comes in cycles
In cycles
Spinning
Nothing
I find lust in common regrets
Like a safety net
So come and cut the strings
With hidden daggers
It’s harder to perceive the golden eye
We live in limelight
There’s never enough time
It goes in cycles
In cycles
Spinning
Nothing
Cycles and spinning thoughts, my friend
Where can I find that pot of gold again
Cycles and spinning thoughts, my friend
Where can I find my head