In the Style of a Tight Rope Walker 歌词

you took my hand from the smoking gun and held me like a son in light of all i said i'd do you placed me in a cell i'd do the same if i were you honest as a priest i held my face up to the sky in the style of a tight rope walker i spread my arms and tried to glide in honour of a failed semester i picked my life up piece by piece in the style of an awful metaphor i took a step to silence you what else could you possibly do? i held my face up to the sky i practiced all my silly lies