Mind is a freeze, from me, from you, from shock

There is no sanctuary, you want to do this...right now

Your blank look tells me, you're not to thrilled at all

To stand here face-to-face with me

You want to stab at me, right now, not tomorrow

'Cause there's a fine line between me and them

Call it a rift



I can't just look you in the eye without just crying/laughing

I speak with death-threat tone...you and yours want to make a name

Pack it up and move on right now, no tomorrow

'Cause there's a fine line between me and them

Call it a...



I will decide



There's pressure, revolving, absorbing, unloading, depreciated

Step on the foot of Excelcier, a net in the womb of the aftermath

The problem ahead is that "fine line" that keeps us apart

A fence there in the middle/keeps us apart again