I look into eyes, but I can't tell if they're mine.
The words coming off my tongue feel like delicately polished,
Practiced lines.
In my head I know my face,
But I haven't shown it for so long now,
That I might now know how.
Every day I'm someone else, someone different,
But I swear that you could never tell that I'm hollow.
I'm hollow. I fill the emptiness with things that aren't real,
To see if I can feel less hollow,
But I know it's only temporary. It's temporary.
In my head I know my face,
But I haven't shown it for so long now,
That I might now know how.
Every day I'm someone else, someone different,
But I swear that you could never tell that I'm hollow.