Centralia

Is it all a question of timing? It sounded right in my head

Is it all a matter of content? Or something else I said?

These lips part waves to blank stares I forgot to think again

These words are the cause of cold shoulders and an empty room

This place is a ghost town. This silence is frightening

I'm talking to a wall again. I never know when to say when

It's not like there's no intent. It's not like I can't see

Every time I open up ... "Is something the matter?"

This place is a ghost town. THis silence is frightening

I'm talking to a wall again I never know when to say when

You won't be back. December night, my third strike

You won't be coming back for more. "Is something the matter?"

You won't be back.