What's another revision
If words from yesterday
May never fit in
The more I rearrange
The more it ends up sounding the same
The more that I erase
The more that I itch
The less I can change

If I keep repeating
The only chord I can play
Do any notes agree when
Your progression
Moves at a different pace
In a key that
Tone or melody
The more I hear you play
The more I mistake
For a harmony

Now after so many listens
The magnetic tape
Starting to ribbon
Even the perfect day
Can become so frayed
Upon revision
A fact I keep finding
Rewinding when I
Do another take
The more I record
And the less I save

(gibberish)

Every verse I throw away
For a face that won't fit
Inside the old frame
When pictures
And words I rehearse
Get taken
Apart and misheard
And all the lines I can trace
From all the pressure my pen has to make
From trying to erase
The ghost I left
On the very next page

So what's another revision
If the words I say today
May never fit in
And tomorrow the remains that I reuse
Married to a tape turned into tissue
For a face that you frame
That no longer fits you
And every picture we take will never hang
If this song is still the same
the song that I sang getting off the plane

The more that I itch it it hurts
I don't want another
The more that I itch the deeper
That I go, What I see
The more that I itch I deserve
What I repeat to no relief
The more that I itch it it hurts
I don't want another
The more that I itch it gets worse
I revise until I bleed
The more that I itch is it worth
What I repeat to no relief
What I repeat to no relief
There must be something
I repeat