[Verse 1]
Performer’s rites
That shed the lights
For human eyes to prove
Two fighters dancing through the crowd
But all alone
Perhaps they know not to come back to Eye City

[Chorus 1]
Interstitial superstition
Growing in my city
Contacts slipping through a black hole
Red, tender and white
Oppositions trade positions
Lying advertisements blur the lines
And crimes
A shocking list for all to see
With thoughts
That trap themselves for all to know
And I still come ‘round here

[Verse 2]
Per subtle gravity and darkness
Only I can prove
Down in the depth charts
I am cyclops overthrown
Perhaps I’ll learn not to go back to Eye City
[Chorus 2]
Presidential ghost of this illusion
That’s how it goes
In and out through tighter spaces, voyeuristic light
Venus fly trap slowly dying
Snapping lashes on the brink
Arriving violently through the stream
A scene that’s playing out in some god’s dream
And I still come ‘round here