The Vanishing Act

After the lights go down After the deafening sound Outside An invitation you know I'd decline Always looking for somewhere to hide In canvases, oh the sterile white I wish I could be honest or even be nice Do you hear me When I talk to you? Do you just hear the parts that you want to? Throwing my voice An expert in disappearing I guess that it's nice to be good at something When I walk through windows The contents of my skull Painting the concrete a violent red Do I get to float through the ceiling? Dissolve into particles or do I float around watching my friends? Could I start over? Beginning to end One more chance to make all the same mistakes again