Runway Markings - Okta Logue

Oh, isn’t it a pity

That we mostly dance alone

In a distant self-reflection

Revolved around our own

Marvel galaxies of dream reality

We’re painters of a picture that no one else can see

And you reach out through that wall of glass

And you’re running from the promises

That have been made to you in the past

All those *belly-out* Tourette nights

Filled with snowy little white lies

Scattered out like cold rain jazz lines

There’s a pulling restless wild eyes

Screwed myself and I see twighlight

Squad leader drop the white light

I would like to fly alone

Everybody is now a daby

And bourbon clouds fill out the room

Everybody smiles like candy

The wrongly map start to

Uu

And you reach out through that wall of glass

You’re travelling the stage at last

And you’re running from the promises

That you have made way back in the past

You’re a stranger in a house of glass

And you need too much too fast

And you’re floating down an endless stream

And you’re waiting for the crash