My Own Hands

Your open eyes exorcize all my facades
They peer inside, throwing daggers at my throat
I remember that day you told me, and I quote,
I've got my own way of doing things, of doing things

Hold me close until it means something
You're not the one to settle for anything
Indifference is on the tip of my tongue
But I'll never know
My brain left my body long ago

Anxious sweat manifests obvious intentions
And I fear I've lost my imagination
She said, "Boredom is the killer of muses,
But brooding like this is completely useless"

Hold me close until it means something
You're not the one to settle for anything
Indifference is on the tip of my tongue
But I'll never know
My brain left my body long ago

So what are you doing?
I'm running away
Where are you going?
I really can't say
I'm brushing dust off my plans
And I'm putting my life back into my own hands, my own hands
It took me so long to realize that you were the page that I fell asleep on

And I've got my own way of doing things