Making tire tracks in the sand It feels the same to me I fall behind and then reach for your hand It feels the same to me You don't even love me in my dreams A thin fabrication with fraying seams You let yourself in I kept shit open Biking through the old summer paths You say it feels the same to me Passed out trees and dull coloured grass It all feels the same but me Is nothing the same Are we without aim You don't even love me in my dreams A thin fabrication with fraying seams Is nothing the same Are we without aim