Shovel in the snow, don't you uncover that road,
In this simple light, toothy smile of stalactites
I can trace these shortcuts everywhere, worlds prepared, used to the usual fare
See the smoke come spilling out of you, feels like flu, feels like losing a few
Looking westward I can see the trees start to shake their leaves, tassels shake in the breeze for you and me
Tin can telephone, I've been staring at too long
Mirror's tired of reflecting light, someone always wants a reply
I can trace these shortcuts from the start, worlds apart, used to catch me off guard
This tendence to dehumanise, where'd it rise, used to averting my eyes
And the best part, I had such a sense of my own fears then, now I hardly have the time, digging blind
Time digging blind
All the time digging blind
All the time digging blind