The Middle

The cardboard houses fold away The painted smiles are frozen tight A clockwork bird repeats the day Singing to the artificial light I hear your footsteps in the hall But it’s just a draft beneath the door Catching echoes off the wall Of words we haven't used before There is no audience Just mannequins in rows Applauding on a timer While the dust begins to settle on their clothes Who left the lights on? Who left the lights on? A letter slipping through the slot It had my name but not my tone A calculated, perfect thought Generated on its own We’re throwing voices in the dark Ventriloquists without a hand Just actors missing every mark Reading from a script we didn't plan There is no audience Just mannequins in rows Applauding on a timer While the dust begins to settle on their clothes Who left the lights on? Who left the lights on? Just a shadow on the floor... Moving on its own... Nobody’s breathing... Look what we’ve become... So perfectly alone... Mirrors reflecting mirrors... Mirrors reflecting mirrors... There's nothing in the middle. Nothing in the middle. Mirrors reflecting mirrors... Nothing in the middle... Mirrors reflecting mirrors... Nothing in the middle... There's nothing in the middle. Nothing in the middle.