Hotel Books

Nothing Was Different

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Me and my friends, we’re not the type of people to ignore
The smallest problem hidden in the smallest church mouse
We hide our emotions but I found out
They’re just live animals hiding in a glass house

I can’t let them out or even let them change somehow
But that’s all I can tell you now
‘Cause I’m not ready to tell you
Everything I want you to know
But I’m ready to trust you
Or at least I’m ready to let love show

I spent the last few years chasing my desires
And I found out I was just chasing my own demons
When I found desire in you, you called my words excuses
But I just thought of them as poorly stated reasons

Simple execution of neglect and preparation
For something hidden in a deeply rooted promise
That will always speak my mind
But sometimes my mind will be mistaken

Me and my friends, we’re not the type of people to leave room for error
But I make enough errors to leave an empty room in my heart
And with no one to turn the lights on my heart lives in the dark
I will hide the light until you ask for it to ignite
Because the truth is bright but hidden in plain sight

Deep within the dark pools of your eyes
The deep secrets cold as ice but sharp as a knife
That feeling of real vibes
Hidden deep inside my dark feeling
That I’m just depressions trophy wife
A sight to exemplify surviving the night

'Cause me and my friends, we never get in trouble
But we are a troubled bunch
Hope lies within our potential, deep within the rubble
Hoping that light will touch

A hypocritical statement, a blatant placement of words
That only have purpose if you strike a match and ignite them
And there you go we solved the problem for darkness
But reinstated a purpose of hatred
Within the deep desires we developed
To envelope the cyclical deep desires
Of desiring deep connections
To add depth to the thick skin of our emptiness

Questioning, representing messages
Of necessary self-fulfillment
Some are satisfied with their instinct
To survive through the storm of darkness
Others call it selfishness
But me and my friends, we don’t subscribe
To the cloud of confusion found
In questioning what turns the lights on
No, we never ask

Me and my friends, we see the light on and celebrate regardless
But sometimes the light doesn’t matter when we wear a mask
So what is gained if this isn’t me?
It’s like having lungs but no ability to breathe
I guess the light exposed the fact
That acceptance became a dead end
And it’s the only conclusion I can see
Cause some day maybe
The identity of “me and my friends” will just be “me.”
But with this mask it doesn’t matter how bright the lights are
Cause I don’t know who I am, I don’t know who I am
Unless it’s me and my friends

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