All our scenes are wrong, and the director's almost gone.
Half our lines have been cut off, an the lighting's all wrong.
The actor's need inspiration, and yet the world is unknown.

Even now, you're calling direction with the camera's off.
It's my humble opinion that you're off your rocker.
A failed rocker with an afterthought and a mic.

All our seasons are falling, and summers almost gone.
All our winters remind us of a phony sunrise.
And i could die within these memories
of shows that don't mean anything to anyone but anyone right here.
And even though the placement is so unclear,
i couldn't miss it for the world.



Lyrics submitted by headphones on

Schrodinger's Life song meanings
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