Mind is a freeze, from me, from you, from shock There is no sanctuary, you want to do this...right now Your blank look tells me, you're not to thrilled at all To stand here face-to-face with me You want to stab at me, right now, not tomorrow 'Cause there's a fine line between me and them Call it a rift
I can't just look you in the eye without just crying/laughing I speak with death-threat tone...you and yours want to make a name Pack it up and move on right now, no tomorrow 'Cause there's a fine line between me and them Call it a...
I will decide
There's pressure, revolving, absorbing, unloading, depreciated Step on the foot of Excelcior, a net in the womb of the aftermath The problem ahead is that "fine line" that keeps us apart A fence there in the middle/keeps us apart again