Blindside

Pace is picking up
Tempo changing slowly gradually hardly noticeable
One beat per minute becomes two and two makes four
Now where is that door
To reality check me out and in and out of this motel rooms
It's unbelievable is this retrievable
I think I better leave
Pretty nights flashing photo lights
I feel all right as long as smiles are shining bright
What a game what a night
I feel all right I said
Pretty nights pretty nights but got nothing to say
Who touched the volume knob
Has it always been this loud
Allowed it to go from one
Does this one go to eleven
I think I better leave
Nothing is silent except the thoughts in my head
And all those words have been said