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• Artiste: Annie Stela
• Titre: Believable
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Sitting in the car, talking with the window down See the bottom of your pant leg as it brushes with the ground I feel sick with this thing I have to swallow and pretend to look around This is a fiction I've created I am cutting down a forest of words I'm not allowed I have fields of propositions that I've gated And I only let them go if I can sing them to a crowd I guess that I wanna be believable But the catch in my throat is the consequence of being full Of choices I can't make And levers I can't pull Just across the table you're feeding me with talk of inner confidence You're taking me upstairs, introducing me to people I have not seen since And I'm wearing these bracelets to weigh down the shaking in my wrists I'm trying my best but sooner or later you'll notice this I guess that I wanna be believable But the catch in my throat is the consequence of being full Of choices I can't make And levers I can't pull You'd say that I deserve this, you'd say I'm asking for it Will I choose to hold it back Or will I punch and pound until the surface I guess that I deserve this, I guess I'm asking for it Will I choose to hold it back Or will I punch and pound until the surface cracks.... Sitting in the car talking with the window down I see the bottom of your pant leg as it brushes with the ground I feel sick with this thing I have to swallow and pretend to look around.