Mimicking the Moths

She spoke in a dead language Diction bleak, musique concrete The streetlights seem to twist and turn As if they're hanging on her every word There's no one around to hear And yet, we're overcome with fear Staring at the screen, looking for something beautiful Mimicking the moths, buzzing in the light Call it a sixth sense, call it what you will A secret look, a silent joke, a dollar from the till Call it a delusion, or whatever you see fit A handshake deal, wet cement, things better left unsaid His eyes begin to water Crocodile tears that we can all see through Accountability, in absentia The perfect cover for the fragile ego Sweet Icarus carry me into the sun I wanna see something, see something beautiful Mimicking the moths, beating themselves to death against the lights Mimicking the moths Run run run Run run rabbit, run Run run run Run run rabbit, run Run run run Run pig, run Run run run Run pig Call it a sixth sense, call it what you will A secret look, a silent joke, a dollar from the till Call it a delusion, or whatever you see fit A handshake deal, wet cement, things better left unsaid