You pull up your hair and you sweep it all back. You blame yourself for love or what really is the lack.
You call out his name hoping to attract, but he has long since left you grasping.
You look for reflection when you sit on your bed; yours is a story that's never been read.
You search for the evidence; there isn't a shred. Nowhere to look, there's no mirror,
But the answer is getting oh so much clearer.

Portions of nothing divided in two. The architect building doesn't know what to do.
The pain left from walking is due to a shoe, that was fitted before you were growing.
Take it off quickly and cast it aside. find a new person to whom you'll confide,
And ask yourself, "Are you still dead or alive?" Humanity's feature is error,
But the answer is getting oh so much clearer.

Paper deformities write off your class, You cannot appeal before it is amassed.
The slowness of age has caught up to you fast. The answer of wisdom is graying.
The stepsisters question that shoe once again. You have to get a better lock to keep out the men.
They say "Queen Cinderella, it's just half past ten." You say she's not here but you her fear her.
And the answer is getting oh so much clearer

When you lock eyes with some random disguise, Or find what you're after in thirty-eight tries.
Or feel excessive warmth from gratuitous skies, Just remember whom you are faking,
For praying for willful indelible ink, And only digesting the objects that stink;
By questioning others while failing to think, The missing finish line won't be nearer,
And the answer will be oh so much clearer.