It’s best this mess is part of the plan
The truth is moving under the ground
You’re sure the steering wheel
Is resting in your hands
Tough to say
You think success belongs to the bank
You take directions into the skin
An ancient motor revving up
To keep it living on
Strings tied to the hands
Hands upon a mouth
Sneaky ways
The path is written before the act
A mode of growing seems like a choice
It feels like progress
Is a product of a hidden game
What obeys
You measure hits by stuff in the house
It’s more sincerely smiles on the face
The instinct leads you if you do
Or if you don’t want
Tackle on a neck
Trapped within the ring
Tough to say
What obeys
Sneaky ways
Sneaky ways