What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Buried in the romance and the melancholy
There's a wisdom in the trees
Whispers in the leaves
They speak in peaks and valleys
Shine bright like stars far from cars and distant highways
Telescoping arms, hands stretched out to heaven
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Slips through your skin and bones
Straight to your soul
From your ears to your fingers and toes
Makes your hair stand straight like crossing paths with a ghost
Knee-deep in metaphors
Like a philosopher with no followers
There's nothing worse than when the ink runs dry
Just short of the end of the second verse
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Scales in Antiquity - The Third Act Lyrics
Scales in Antiquity - The Third Act Lyrics
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What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Buried in the romance and the melancholy
There's a wisdom in the trees
Whispers in the leaves
They speak in peaks and valleys
Shine bright like stars far from cars and distant highways
Telescoping arms, hands stretched out to heaven
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Slips through your skin and bones
Straight to your soul
From your ears to your fingers and toes
Makes your hair stand straight like crossing paths with a ghost
Knee-deep in metaphors
Like a philosopher with no followers
There's nothing worse than when the ink runs dry
Just short of the end of the second verse
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Buried in the romance and the melancholy
There's a wisdom in the trees
Whispers in the leaves
They speak in peaks and valleys
Shine bright like stars far from cars and distant highways
Telescoping arms, hands stretched out to heaven
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Slips through your skin and bones
Straight to your soul
From your ears to your fingers and toes
Makes your hair stand straight like crossing paths with a ghost
Knee-deep in metaphors
Like a philosopher with no followers
There's nothing worse than when the ink runs dry
Just short of the end of the second verse
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
What if the third act
Is the one that
Accurately captures the fleeting attempt
Of securing your attention deficit
There's a surplus of tragedy
Writer: Daniel Morgan
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid