| Well, I’m in hiding, but not too far |
| Where time gets bent into the bar |
| The same old drink, lit by waves, on different days |
| The familiar chords bounce off the walls |
| In C’s and D’s and E’s |
| Well I’ve been here before to spend my different ways |
| On different days I’m in hiding |
| The volume jumbles and fights for more |
| Like swirls of buzzing bees |
| I can’t hear the stories in the cracks of the day, no |
| Little bursts of language dissipate |
| The stories try to hang on |
| There’s nothing here that hasn’t been said, |
| I’m running dry |
| It’s the moves you never make inside |
| It’s the moves you never make in time |
| See the bottom rising |
| See the bottom rising |
| I’m buried in a cycle that I notice in my brain |
| The repeating seems unstoppable |
| Even when I change |
| I forget everything I remember |
| In denial I am denied |
| My head feels like swarming and checking off boxes for days and days and days |
| On different days I’m in hiding |
| Refrain~ |
| You move into the storm, it pulls you where you’re going |
| I’m looking up through the layers |
| There’s a tumbling sky that’s got to land |
| I’m covered in its pooling measures |
| No matter where I run, no matter were I stand |
| Can’t let go |
| When they run away I stay awake |
| I stay awake on different days |
| When they run away I stay awake |
| I stay awake through different days |
| The different days are so out from the rest |
| I can’t recognize the time |
| Don’t pull your hat down or go around |
| 'Cause it’s everything in everything and then some |
| You move into the storm, it pulls you where you’re going |
| Now I’m back in the ballroom dancing the buck-and-wing |
| I’ve been tapping solo for so long |
| My limbs are flying but I’m not rising to any degree |
| 'Cause I’m just spinning, wasted movement and energy |
| On different days I’m in hiding |
| Refrain~ |