I Sold Myself In - Burning Airlines

A 2 pm morning I’m greeting

The end of meaning

Open my mind just a crack

And look what crawls in

Now I’m trying to keep my head above

Your dead pool

Deep end

I sold myself in;

In on the joke of the spin

But this burned-in cynical grin

Is fading again

Turning the hooks to catch nothing

I’m let off

You live in your head and love no-one

At all

Spotlit marks for your self-styled

Comic book sharpshooter

Blind spots before

I sold myself in;

In on the joke of the spin

Now this burned-in cynical grin

Is fading again

Peeling those tired eyes

To steal and refine some sleek pitch line

Wide of the mark, pressed to define

Connect the dots

Line by line

I sold myself in;

In on the joke of the spin

Now this burned-in cynical grin

Is fading again