Camphor crossed with lace, it is the witching hour
Cinematic but [bad word] Teasing all my feelings out, you move away
It seems so natural to you

Still siren, climbing up the victory tower
Like there's something left to prove
I trap the beads of sweat [bad word] between my eyes
And free the fever to move

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line
I'm drawing the line, I draw the line
And I have my pride
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
And I save my soul
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
And I have no doubt

Dreamt the sound of scissors, cutting stitches out

Then discarding the used
Recording all my problems onto memory cards [bad word] unmoved

Onto others what they always do to you
The most twisted of [bad word] Distill malaise and photograph the hole it [bad word] out a copy for you

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line
I'm drawing the line, I draw the line
And I have my pride
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
And I save my soul
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
And I have no doubt