Camphor crossed with lace, it is the witching hour Cinematic but crude Teasing all my feelings out, you move away It seems so natural to you Still siren, climbing up the victory tower Like there's something left to prove I trap the beads of sweat that run between my eyes And free the fever to move I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line I'm drawing the line, I draw the line And I have my pride I'm taking control, I'm taking control I'm taking control, I'm taking control And I save my soul I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out And I have no doubt Dreamt the sound of scissors, cutting stitches out Then discarding the used Recording all my problems onto memory cards Your compassion unmoved Onto others what they always do to you The most twisted of your rules Distill malaise and photograph the hole it leaves Running out a copy for you I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line I...