I'm making a film about your life in my head. It fades from black to a conversation you can't hear with dishes thrown and eyes that turn away. The curtain falls and the actors take their bow, but don't think that it's the end. No, don't think that it's the end. Photographs left in a box and a note on the kitchen table. You go for a drive far away from here. No conversations, there's just static on the radio. No, you don't want this, but you pretend like it's better. Oh well, welcome to your life, oh welcome to your lie. When it's all over you'll come to you senses. Just like sunlight from a window you'll be warm and dry. Oh, you'll be welcome to your new life.