Text: Idlewild. To Be Forgotten.

I'm choosing words that seem to be forgotten
As I use them
These are the same words that let me be forgiven
The minute I choose them
So I won't try, try, try
To sell my advice

Cause it's meant to be forgotten
The minute you try
The lies take the place
Of advice

I can't say
If I'm awake
Like I say
We're built that way, where I'm from

An extension of Lacan's way
A mirror stage
Of disappointment
Where you're from

Give me a clue when these words were written
In reference to use them
So when they're gone, they intend to be forgotten
The minute you choose them
There's not much point
Accepting your advice

Like 'oh to be forgotten'
It only takes two minutes for you
To change your mind

I can't say
If I'm awake
Like I say
We're built that way, where I'm from

An extension of Lacan's way
A mirror stage
Of disappointment
Where you're from