I could ask you those three words
But all I’d get back in return
Another slap right in the face
Another cut back in the heart

All they’re really thinking about
Are my thoughts – their whereabouts?
Trying to just be my friends
But in the end I trip again on life

Falling down to me
Trying to make me see that this is right
Falling down on me
Try to change the way that I care
Falling down on me
Try to sort out calculations
Misinformation – entertainment – It’s so unnecessary
And no it’s not the same

As I play these same to chords
All the doors just seem to close
The doors you said would open up in time

Convoluted, too un-rooted
Time won’t seem to work on me
To compulsively try to rearrange
My cubist form of metal readings

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Compulsive Rearrangement song meanings
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