Wren Wilder - My Voice Lyrics

You were surreal, like the last of my thoughts
Who is the girl with the taste of your tongue?
Fumble for the words to save your soul
Where is the cadence to shackle your fable?

It must have gone adrift with your socks
You hold my hands too tightly, they feel like they're falling off
It must have gone adrift with your socks
But why must you try to convince me?

She was so real, like I first thought
Who was I ever to think differen'ty?
Fumble for the words to make me feel at home
But why is she in my kitchen right next to me?

Where Was My Voice in the Muck??

It must have gone adrift with your socks
But as I look down beside me
It seems like they've ended up on the girl with the taste of your tongue.
on the girl with the taste of your tongue

She can keep them. I'm done