The Headache

It's harder now, you know, to insist
When you're hungry for a simple sentiment

With my arms tied up it's hard to make things fit
But you never realized it

On your mark I could shed these set constraints
And open up my hand
Because we could find love
Because somewhere in this pane we are still the same
I just have a headache

I'm walking open-ended to the source
In hopes to find a change of uniform

You think your scathing way can't so easily break
But you don't make mistakes

On your mark I could shed these set constraints
And open up my hand
Because we could find love
Because somewhere in this pane we are still the same
I just have a headache