there's something false in this the pictures on the wall our handsome shining faces don't hide the truth at all there's something false in bliss that remains so superficial we keep posing for the camera as the earth beneath us falls and it's a long way down when the thing you want to believe in so badly can't be found and so your picture perfect hard-working hands come up empty every time there's something false in this as the evening falls distractions and empty bottles line the dim and shallow halls an absence in your kiss unspoken as you travel away from all that pains you away from life at all and it's a long way down when the thing you want to believe in so badly can't be found and so your picture perfect hard-working come up empty every time