Testo Don't Sleep

Must have been an angel laying on me then
And with those curtains blowing on our closed windows
And there are no reminders, but I've known all along
I'm citing conversation word for word with you and
Elaborations
Dotted language
Not the inevitable
Not the eye contact That was a sell

I have a photographic memory sometimes
They'll stay up for hours just in case
You'd understand my crisis, so what
It's not a crisis at all
And we have built an empire of sorts of free time
And I'll sell you my labor, of course
It's mine